


In Your Orbit

by AtticusKaine



Series: Our Stories Burn Bright, Hung Like Stars in the Sky [1]
Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: ADHD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, More mature themes than canon, Non-Graphic References to Emotional/Mental Abuse, Non-graphic depictions of violence, OC References - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, This Turned Into a Novel, Worldbuilding, so there's that, some strong language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 133,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtticusKaine/pseuds/AtticusKaine
Summary: We are, each of us, tied together by bonds that defy explanation or reason; that flare with emotion beyond our control and draw us to the people who make us better versions of ourselves. In the two years following the Emperor's defeat, Luz Noceda's bonds to those people she loves have been tested by the distance of her forced return to the mundane world. But when the opportunity at last arises to return to the other side of the looking glass, to renew her bonds and rekindle them, there's not a force in this world or the next that could hold her back.And so Luz Noceda has returned to the Boiling Isles. To complete her education, to become the witch she was always meant to be, and maybe, just maybe, to get to have her happy ending after all.
Relationships: Amity Blight & Lilith Clawthorne, Amity Blight & Willow Park, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Camila Noceda & Luz Noceda, Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda, Edric Blight & Emira Blight & Luz Noceda, Emira Blight/Viney, Luz Noceda & Willow Park & Gus Porter
Series: Our Stories Burn Bright, Hung Like Stars in the Sky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079384
Comments: 488
Kudos: 701





	1. Today's the Day

Sunlight streamed through an arched window, lending detail to the room as it grew in intensity. Two dressers, a wardrobe, a great rug dominating the center, and a desk set in the corner. The light slowly crept across the floor before finally coming to a stop at the far wall, illuminating an elaborate four-post bed, and a certain green-haired witch nestled under its blankets. Amity Blight groaned and turned into her pillow as her eyes were assaulted by the creeping advance. And then, a single thought;

“Today’s the day!”

Immediately, the witch threw herself from her bed. Leaving any sense of grace behind, she rolled out of her blankets and onto the floor, picking herself up with reckless speed and trying desperately to ignore the popping in her joints as she did so. Amity was fairly certain that she wasn’t supposed to pop that much at her age, but she supposed that’s what grudgby at a young age would do to you. Her eyes turned to the mirror against her door, taking in her disheveled appearance. The wide smile that split across her features was impossible to contain.

_ Today’s the day. _

Crossing the floor with a few giddy strides, Amity threw her door open, only to be met with a familiar face staring back at her, shocked expression matching her own.

“Eep!” she shrieked, in a totally collected manner, falling onto her back to avoid running into her mentor.

“Ami-” began the older witch, her hand raised to knock on the door, though slowly falling to her side as she beheld her pupil’s graceful transition to the floor. Silence hung heavy between them before Lilith finally interjected.

“I was coming to wake you up, but it seems that’s no longer necessary,” she observed, the faintest hint of a smirk creeping into her voice. “You must be quite excited.”

Amity felt her cheeks kindle to life, a quick motion with her finger and the barest hint of will summoning the levitation spell that pushed her to her feet. She wanted to be embarrassed, or apologetic, or anything resembling the calm, collected exterior of her mentor, but she just couldn’t. Not today.

_ Today’s the day. _

“Yeah, well you know. Big day. Lots of plans. Weekend and all.” she stammered. 

Lilith’s smirk left the “barely concealed, mildly taunting you” stage and fully entered the realm of “oh yes, I totally believe you.” 

“It couldn’t possibly have to do with my sister’s pupil returning to the Isles, could it?” she teased lightly, enjoying the faint blush that grew darker with each word.

“Nope, not at all. No ma’am. I’m just really excited to study. I’ve got a big test coming up and I’m just ready to…” Amity trailed off as soon as she saw the disbelief on Lilith’s features. She mumbled something to herself. The sort of half-whisper that could have been an audible word if one had the ears of some bird of prey.

“What was that Amity? How many times have I told you not to mumble?”

“Mmbmm”

“Again please?”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Lilith asked, no longer attempting to hide the grin from her own face.

“Maybe I’m a bit excited about that,” Amity responded, her blush upgrading from salmon to tomato in an instant.

“Well, you should be.” the older witch conceded. “Luz is a powerful witch and an ally to the Isles. It will be good to have someone else that we trust by our side. I’d imagine it would also help with my sister’s bad attitude.”

“And of course,” she began, letting the word hang, “I’m certain it will help my apprentice’s attitude as well…”

“Well, I should probably get ready then!” Amity quipped excitedly. “Wouldn’t want to be late for my attitude adjustment.” 

Rushing past her mentor and smacking her forehead for that particular metaphor, Amity ducked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Slowly, she slid down against it before coming to a rest on the floor. Her hands rubbed light circles around her cheeks, attempting to massage the blush away to no avail. Suddenly, a faint nagging sensation pulled at the back of her mind, and with another turn of her finger, her scroll appeared in front of her. Amity keyed her passcode in, the blush strengthening for a moment, and opened the first of three messages. 

~---~

So, are you a blushing mess right now?

I habe absolutely no idead what your talking about.

...

Amity, you just misspelled two words and used the wrong your

No, I didn’t.

-Message Deleted-

Already screenshotted it

Busted

Is there a reason you’re harassing me, Miss Park?

Ooh, Miss Park. Ur mad.

Sorry, your* mad.

Anyways, was that a yes or a no?

I am most certainly not a “blushing mess” right now.

If we’re not going to get to the point, this conversation is over. I have to get ready.

Have to get nice and cleaned up huh?

Save some light for the rest of us Am

Alright, this is done. It was nice being friends with you again Willow, but this is over.

Yeah, yeah, you say that now.

You going to wear the perfume I gave you?

…

yes

I rest my case.

This conversation is over.

Goodbye.

~---~

Amity snapped her fingers, dismissing her scroll and pushing herself to her feet. There was no way she was even going to entertain the idea of opening either of the other messages. Willow was bad enough. Talking to either of the twins was a surefire way to push her over the edge. Instead, she focused on getting the shower adjusted to just the right temperature before stepping in. 

_ Today’s the day. _

The thought immediately brought the smile back to her face. The perfume Willow had brought her had indeed been very nice. Though she could have done without the smirk on her face as she handed it over. Now she’d have to figure out what to wear. Maybe something formal? No, that was an awful idea. Truly terrible. As she rubbed the shampoo into her hair, green and brown strands alike whipping across her vision, Amity realized just how harsh she was being. 

Was she really that obvious? What was she saying, of course she was that obvious. If it wasn’t a blush her ears would have given her away, and if they hadn’t then she absolutely would’ve started stammering and, oh Gods, how was she even going to talk to Luz? An image crossed Amity’s mind, of her younger self standing at a door in an empty clearing, watching as her closest friend walked through, unsure if she’d ever be back.

She’d be fine. There wasn’t another option. 

* * *

Now dressed in black leggings and a simple pink blouse (one of 38 outfit options she’d run through in the previous ten minutes), Amity descended the stairs into the small dining room where Lilith already sat, a stack of reports to one side of her and a single piece of fruit, sliced but untouched, on a plate in front of her. Where Amity usually sat there was a bowl already waiting, a box of cereal and a pitcher of milk set next to it. As she prepared her breakfast, the young witch glanced up at her mentor, her attention clearly commanded by the report she was reading.

“Good news?” Amity asked hopefully, though she already knew the answer.

“We should be so lucky,” Lilith responded, voice already sounding so tired that Amity wondered just how early her mentor had awoken this morning. She was inclined to not sleep at all these days. The Isles had always been a mess of administration, even under the Emperor, and she had no idea how the older witch managed to maintain it all. Her thoughts were disrupted by Lilith taking a long, loud sip from the mug in front of her. 

_ Ah, right. _

“There are further reports of fights breaking out in the northern Isles between different families of witches.” Lilith suddenly replied, breaking Amity out of her thoughts. “Some nonsense about ‘ancient grudges made anew.’ If they spent half as much time fighting monsters as they did each other I wouldn’t have to send so many peacekeepers.” She sighed, placing the report down at the table and looking towards her ward. “But perhaps such complaints are best saved for another time. Today’s the day, after all.”

Amity’s nod in agreement quickly cut off, her spoon halfway to her mouth. Slowly, the blush came back. “When did I?…”

“Before you opened the door. You shouted it rather excitedly before rushing out of your room like it had caught fire.”

“Ah, well…” Amity trailed off. The glitter in Lilith’s eyes was positively dangerous. That sort of look that seemed to imply that, with one word, she could reduce her to a gibbering mess. Amity waited for the other shoe to fall.

“You’re dripping milk onto my table.”

“I’m dri- Oh. Oh!” 

Blushing for an entirely different reason, Amity quickly made a circle with her finger and willed the milk to evaporate. Which, due to her emotional state, made a spill-shaped burn spot on the table. “H-hold on, I’ll fix it!”

“Hmm?” asked Lilith, already getting up from the table and condensing her stack of reports into a suitcase far too small to hold them all that nevertheless managed to. As she moved towards the back door, grabbing her raven-capped staff from where it rested against the wall, she turned and regarded her ward. “Oh, it’s no matter. If you’re not up to the task of defeating the dreaded milk spill then I can certainly handle it later.”

As Lilith turned to leave, Amity suddenly perked up, voice coming out far too high for her liking. “Wait!”

“Yes, Amity?” Came Lilith’s reply, infinitely patient.

“Did Eda tell you when she was bringing Luz back?” Amity replied back, soft and embarrassed.

Lilith grew severe. “You want to know if Edalyn Clawthorne, The Owl Lady, most powerful wild witch in the Boiling Isles, former fugitive, and literal agent of chaos gave me a specific time as to when she was wresting her ward from the human realm?” 

“I suppose it was a silly question.” Amity began, looking down at the table.

“Very shortly.” Amity looked back up in surprise at her mentor. At the full-blown smirk that crossed her features. “I would imagine that she’s just as excited to see Miss Noceda as you are.” Her smirk grew devilish. “Though for entirely different reasons.”

_ The other shoe. _

Amity skipped everything from pink to brick on the color spectrum, settling somewhere firmly in “tomato” territory and staying there as Lilith lightly chuckled. 

“You’re as bad as Ed and Em,” Amity muttered.

“Hardly. Your siblings are giving my sister a legitimate run for her money on the ‘Agent of Chaos’ front.” Lilith countered. Amity mumbled something under her breath, causing Lilith to raise an eyebrow. “Language, Miss Blight.”

Sufficiently chastised, Amity glanced back down at the table, a moment of calm and another circle with her finger clearing the burn from the table. 

“If you need me, I shall be at my office. You know how to get through to me.” Lilith opened the back door, taking a moment before turning back to her ward. “Oh, and Amity?”

The younger witch looked towards her mentor again, expecting one last tease before she left. Instead, she found a genuine smile waiting for her.

“Enjoy your day. You’ve waited long enough.”

Amity’s grin returned, the blush fading to light pink. As the back door closed, she set her head on her crossed arms.

_ Today’s the day. _

Today was the day that Luz Noceda returned from the human realm. Amity pushed herself up from the table, taking her now-empty bowl to the sink. The first day in two years when Amity would actually be able to see her in person, rather than the letters and margins that they’d used since she’d left. Magicing the bowl and other associated silverware back into their proper places, the grin spread even further. Today was _the_ day. 

_ The day when she was finally going to tell Luz exactly how she felt about her. _


	2. Despedidas

The day had finally come. The mighty chosen one, champion of countless battles and conqueror of the evil emperor, had finally found an enemy which could best her. Defeated and broken, she groaned her last. The time had come for her to pass from this world, to hope that her magic would be found by another, and that they could, in her place, conquer the evil force that had felled her. Such were the thoughts of our hero, one Luz Noceda, as she made her final, desperate struggle against the forces of evil. 

_Of course, it was made even worse by the betrayal which had caused it. Her own flesh and blood, squeezing the life from her as surely as any serpent._

“ _Oh mija, no puedo creer que me dejes para siempre_ ,” came her mother’s voice, a familiar tone that ushered her to the void.

“It’s not forever, _mamá_ , I’ll visit plenty,” Luz managed to choke out.

Camila Noceda released her daughter from her vice grip, placing a hand on either shoulder and looking her dead in the eye. Luz quelled under the almighty power of the mom stare, but kept her gaze locked firmly on her mother. 

“ _Lo prometo_ ,” Luz weakly added.

Tears welling in her eyes, Camila pulled Luz into another hug, the latter bracing for another brush with death, but relaxing at the tenderness of it. “I know you will mija, I know you will. Still, do you expect me to just be okay with sending you off to another world?”

“We had a deal _mamá_ …” Luz began warily.

“Oh, I know. I’m not going back on it. Not after all that work you put in. _¡Mi hija, una graduada temprana!_ ” Her mother’s smile widened, practically beaming. “I’m so proud of you _mija_.”

Luz smiled in turn. It had been a difficult process, and the result of many sleepless nights and busy summers, but it wasn’t like she had much else to occupy her time. She’d made her choice the moment she stepped through that door two years ago. She belonged in the Boiling Isles, deserved to enjoy everything it offered her. Of course, that didn’t mean she’d get to make that decision for herself. In a way, she understood where her mother was coming from. More now than she had back then at least. 

Grudgingly, it made sense to finish school. At the very least, to say that she could. She’d already lost the diploma, but that wasn’t what really mattered. After all, she already had a job lined up, and it wasn’t the sort of thing that high school prepared you for. Luz still felt bad for the guidance counselor though. How do you explain wanting to graduate early and not go to college? Better yet, not having any apparent plans whatsoever?

_Oh, but she had plans. She had a lot of plans._

“ _¿Mija, Tu conmigo?_ ”

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m here,” Luz replied sheepishly. “Just zoned out a bit there.”

“I was asking if you had everything you needed.”

“Oh yeah, I think so,” Luz responded, looking towards the small pile of stuff at the center of the room. “Clothes, sketchbooks, more clothes, blankets, _mi guitarra_ , costumes…” Trailing off, Luz wracked her brain for the missing piece. Something was off.

“How about those books of yours, _mija_?”

“Right, my Azura books!” Luz shouted, rushing up the stairs, ignoring the faint laughter that followed her. Frantic, she pushed her door open and stopped. 

_Her room was empty._

Oh sure, there was still furniture in it. None of that was coming with her. But something about it just felt… wrong. Maybe it was the way that all of her posters and drawings were off of the walls, either folded up in her pile downstairs or boxed up on her bed. Or maybe it was the fact that her desk was clean, really clean, for the first time in living memory. Still, there were the scratches in her bedpost. One for each week she’d made it through since leaving the Isles. One of her shelves still held an anatomically correct model of a griffin, sans spider breath at _mamá_ ’s insistence. 

Luz took a deep breath, using the moment it gave her to get her train of thought back on its tracks. One more searching look over her empty/not empty room and she found what she was looking for. Ten books, stacked neatly in the corner, where they must have been in plain view when she’d put them there, but would have escaped notice had she not been reminded. Crossing the floor, the young witch took the first book off the top of the stack, flipping it open and dropping, cross-legged, to the floor. 

One page to the next, none were spared of two competing styles of handwriting. Her own script, halting and messy. Amity’s, swirling and refined. No section had been spared over the last two years, whether it be by little comments, grand declarations of the quality of some character or another, or - in Luz’s case specifically - little doodles in the corners and bottoms of pages. Straight lines portioned out every bit of dialogue, a few dozen different shades of ink marking out characters that had been assigned to one or the other. Luz smiled faintly, remembering days and nights spent in a hidden room, acting out parts with reckless abandon.

_“Enough, Hecate! Enough of this rivalry, of this back-and-forth. In this, the defense of our home, we are united, and all else must come after!”_

_“You speak true, fair Azura. On this, at least. we are agreed. Let us bring our powers together, in defense of all that we love and hold dear!”_

“ _¿Mija?_ ” came her mother’s voice, interrupting her nostalgia.

“ _¿Sí, mamá?_ ” Luz responded.

“One of those ‘portal’ things just appeared in the living room. I think tha-” Camila Noceda, survivor of countless bursts of hyperactivity, nevertheless barely managed to move out of the way as her daughter flew past her, a bullet of brown and grey darting down the stairs before she could finish her sentence.

“Eda!” Luz shouted, drawing the “e” out into a sound that would give an air-raid siren a run for its money.

Sure enough, as she rushed towards the angular tear in the space-fabric of her living room, the figure that stepped through was none other than Edalyn Clawthorne, the Owl Lady herself. 

“Just hold on a minute ki- oomph!” started Eda, before getting locked in a hug that drove all the life from her lungs. Taking a hold of her owl-capped staff, Eda brushed her finger over a symbol carved into its length and pushed magic into it, causing the young witch still clinging to her to slowly drift up and away from her.

“Oh my gosh Eda, is this an anti-gravity glyph?” came Luz’s breathless response.

“What’s gravity?” the older witch responded with a smirk.

“I can’t tell you how easy that would have made things,” interjected a third voice. “I could have just tied her to the counter and gotten our groceries in peace.”

“ _¡Mamá!_ ”

“I’m joking _mija_. I doubt they would have let me tie you to the counter.” Camila responded, before turning to the woman, er, witch that had stepped into her room. Luz could see why her mother looked taken aback. She was used to her mentor at this point but could imagine what someone unfamiliar would see.

Tall and thin, with a mane of silvery hair that fell to her knees. One eye gold, and the other a pale grey. Most attention-drawing, of course, were the pointed ears and too-sharp features that clearly marked her as something other than human. Luz noted that her clothes were a bit less tattered than usual. Still a bit jagged at the edges, but cleaner and more presentable than she could ever remember Eda looking.

“I don’t know, you could have just tied her up at home,” Eda quipped back. “Wouldn’t even have needed magic for that one.”

“And do you intend to tie my daughter up whenever you need to leave the home, Miss Clawthorne?” Camila snapped teasingly. To Luz’s surprise, Eda actually looked embarrassed as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Ah, no. Nothing like that is on the agenda.”

“Good, because I would hate to find out that something like that was happening to my daughter.” Camila continued, earning a groan from her daughter.

“ _Mamá_ , even if she did, I could easily untie myself.” Luz said, bringing a hand full of playing cards up out of her pocket before fanning them out to reveal the glyphs carefully inked on their otherwise blank surfaces. “I’ve got skills.”

Eda turned, snatching one of the cards out of her hand, earning a plaintive “Hey!” from her ward in the process. Turning it over in her hand, Eda nodded appreciatively. “Pretty good work kid. This one of the new ones?”

Luz blushed slightly, copying her mentor’s nervous gesture. “Yeah, I know I can’t use them over here without some kind of source, but I figured I would at least get a head-start, y’know.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for magic kiddo, but how about you start taking your stuff through the Tear while your mom and I cover a few things?”

“Alright, see you soon!” Luz responded, darting towards her pile before coming to a sudden halt.

“Kid?”

Luz turned towards her mother, feeling the tears start before wrapping her arms around her midsection. There was no squeezing to this one. Just a long, gentle hug that her mother quickly wrapped her up in. 

“ _Te quiero mucho mamá_ ” Luz managed to choke out, voice thick with emotion, earning a quiet sob and a tighter grasp from her mother.

“ _Y te quiero tanto mija_ ,” she responded, pulling free of the hug and putting both hands on her daughter’s shoulders once again. “ _Ve a mostrarles a esas islas lo que significa ser un Noceda_.”

Luz nodded in response, pulling away, but taking another moment to look at her mother, before turning and grabbing her first two bundles and stepping through the Tear.

* * *

Eda turned away from watching Luz step into the Tear to look at the human woman standing in front of her. She could see the concern writ plainly across her features. The tenseness in her shoulder. The faint, glassy sheen to eyes that were barely holding back tears. It was a familiar sensation to her.

“Camila,” Eda began.

“Miss Clawthorne,” Camila interjected, silencing the witch. Seeming to notice the harshness in her tone, she took a moment to still herself before continuing. “Eda. I can see how much you care about Luz, and she about you.” At this, she turned to the Tear, watching as her daughter stepped through and grabbed two more bags, before flashing them both a jaunty salute and stepping back through. “I trust that you will do everything in your power to keep her safe. To treat her like your own.” There was no question to it. It was a demand.

Eda closed the short distance between them, taking both of Camila’s hands in her own. “I give you my oath, as a woman and a witch, that no harm will come to your daughter while I still draw breath. I swear it on my power.” And if there was a bit of a breeze that suddenly blew through the portal, neither acknowledged it.

“Good,” was the only response she got.

Luz stepped through the portal one last time, stopping at the odd sight before her. Eda and her mother, practically on top of each other and holding hands, staring deeply into one another’s eyes. Eda watched as a blush raced across her cheeks. 

“Uhm, am I interrupting something?” she quipped nervously.

“What?” Eda responded, before looking down at the position she was in. “Oh, I don’t know,” she began, looking to Camila, who shrugged back. “Is she?”

The human chuckled and pulled her hands away. “ _Ellas dijeron que el diablo sería tentador_ ,” she quipped, causing Luz’s blush to only grow brighter. Eda, on the other hand, looked thoroughly confused. Luz quickly rushed forward, grabbing her guitar case and book bag before turning back towards the Tear. 

“I’ll just leave you two to it then,” she managed to stammer out.

“What did you say?” Eda asked, a sly smile crossing her face.

“You’ll never know,” Camila replied, a smile growing to match.

“Like mother, like daughter I suppose.”

“And what might that mean, Miss Clawthorne?”

“Oh,” Eda said, smile growing practically devilish, “that one you’ll likely know soon.”

“I might have a few ideas,” Camila responded. “You should have seen her face when she almost forgot those books of hers.” 

Eda laughed heartily at that one, the tension suddenly breaking. “Maybe you’re a bit more perceptive than I thought then.”

“Maybe I am.”

* * *

Luz stepped back through the Tear slowly, not even wanting to consider what she might see if she walked through too quickly. If she could have knocked, she would. Eda and her _mamá_ were great individually, but together?... She shuddered at the thought. Thankfully, they were a respectable distance from one another.

“That all, kiddo?” Eda asked.

“Should be it,” Luz said, quickly taking a mental inventory. She lost track around the third thing, shrugging both internally and externally. “If not, I can always just pop back through and grab anything I missed, right?”

“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t have even opened this thing unless I was sure I could do it consistently,” Eda responded. “Let’s just try to keep it to a minimum. I ain't the witch I used to be. That being said, I’ll head through and make sure it stays open. Give you two a minute.” The elder witch walked across the room, ruffling Luz’s hair as she went. “See you on the other side, kid.” She tossed one last look back at Camila that Luz couldn’t quite read before stepping through herself.

“ _No creo que mi corazón pueda soportar otro abrazo mija._ ” her mother warned, instead smiling at her daughter and placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“ _Yo tampoco, mamá. Yo tampoco_ ,” Luz replied, placing her own hand over her mother’s.

“Make sure you call at least once a week. You know how my hours are. If I don’t pick up, I _will_ call you back.”

“I know _mamá_.”

“And don’t let that be one of the things that go to the wayside. _Esto es importante._ ”

“I know _mamá_.”

“And where’s your hat? The wind coming out of that portal thing felt cold. Oh, did you pack your coat? _¡Oh, mi bebé se va a congelar!_ ”

“ _mamá_ , I’m not going to freeze,” Luz responded. Reaching into her hoodie’s pocket, she pulled her grey beanie out and set it on her head. The gesture immediately mirrored by her mother, who pressed it further down on her head, earning a plaintive “ _¡Mamá!_ ” for her efforts.

“Alright, alright, _lo siento mija_.” Luz could hear her mother’s voice grow thick with emotion. Looking up, she saw the floodgates ready to break, and made to hug her one last time. 

“ _No mija_ , if you hug me again I’m going to start crying, and then you’ll start crying, and then Eda will have to pull you out of my arms,” she said. Luz began to shake her head, but realized it was the truth. Instead she nodded, turning towards the Tear.

  
“ _Te quiero, mamá_ ,” she said, before slowly making her way towards the tear. And if, while she was doing so, she heard a small voice whisper for her to come back soon, well, she was glad that she had turned away when she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still enjoying reading this as much as I do writing it. Hopefully, my Spanish is alright. I'm a bit rusty on that point. Unfortunately, I'm not rusty on living with ADHD, so hopefully, I did that part justice. Anyway, I just want to say that I appreciate all the kudos and bookmarks I've gotten so far. You guys make it worth it.


	3. Et Vos Desiderabat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right folks, sorry for the bit of a delay. Kind of got carried away on this one, but I really wanted to get it right. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

At this point, Amity could probably find the Owl House in her sleep. She’s walked the familiar path so many times, either accompanying Lilith or on her own, that she’s memorized every branch, every rock, and dip in the road. Sure enough, as she turns the next bend she sees the broken tower that looms over her destination. The house itself isn’t visible yet, but it will be soon, and she takes the moment to compose herself.

_Remember the words Amity. Annunciate each syllable. You won’t have her accent, but she should still be able to understand you fine. Augustus knows what he’s talking about._

And as she turns the corner, so absorbed in composing herself that she’s lost all sense of her surroundings, the witch doesn’t even notice the furry obstacle in her way.

“I’m talking to you Bli-” the voice cuts into her consciousness, exactly one second before she bowls over its source. The world becomes a confusing blur of tumbling limbs, scrabbling claws, and squeaks of rage.

“Ah, King! Watch where you’re going!” Amity managed to eke out, moments before a paw pushed all of the air from her lungs.

“I was just standing there! Maybe you should watch where you’re going!” came his reply, muffled from beneath her. After another moment, the small creature managed to push his way free and rolled off to the side, coming to a rest a few feet away. The low growl that emanated from him would have been, in Amity’s opinion, honestly terrifying, were it not for the fact that he barely came up to her calf. Indeed, the little skull-faced creature that referred to himself as the “King of Demons” was probably one of the softest things she’d ever met. Though of course, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of telling him that.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t be standing in the middle of the road,” Amity replied instead.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should watch where you’re going!”

“You already said that.”

“I know I did, but it’s still important! And one day, no one’s going to be able to miss me standing right in front of them, and then you’ll be sorry!”

Amity sighed before kneeling down in front of the demon. She watched as his eyes went from her face to her hand. How his body tensed up.

“You wouldn’t…” he whispered, knowing the truth already.

Before he could react, Amity darted out with one hand and grabbed him with the other, pulling him into her lap and scratching him under the chin. Immediately, she felt all of the fight go out of his little form, and he relaxed in her grasp.

“I’m sorry I ran into you King,” she began, chuckling. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Alright Blight, I’ll forgive you just this once, but it’s only because I’m a benevolent ruler.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the scratches, right?” the witch asked him, chuckling at the way his wagging tail confirmed her suspicions.

“The King of Demons would be remiss to dismiss such a useful servant,” came his response, undercut as it was by the enormous yawn that stretched out the last syllable.

“That reminds me,” Amity began, pushing herself back and looking up at the Owl House, one hand still lightly scratching under King’s chin. “What are you doing up so early? Most days, you and Eda aren’t up until the morning’s nearly over.”

“Oh, that’s because Eda already left to get Luz,” King replied.

“She what!” Amity shrieked, standing up so suddenly that she sent the poor demon flying.

Grumbling, King pulled himself to his feet. “Yeah, I was going to go with her originally, but she said it wouldn’t be a good idea to bring a demon to meet Luz’s mom. I mean, you’d figure that if she was going to bring anyone, she’d bring me, but she got that huffy “I’m the Owl Lady, and what I say goes” tone in her voice, and-” King stopped, seeming to notice Amity’s panicked pacing. “Are you listening to me, Blight?”

As a matter of fact, Amity was not listening to him. Instead, she was busy wearing a groove into the turf as her thoughts flashed through her head like lightning. Of course, this would be the one time that Eda was actually on time. Of course she would leave that early in the morning. Amity had helped her plot out when the Tear would be viable, after all, and Eda would not have wanted to put that to chance. But if she had left as soon as it had opened, that meant…

_They could be here at any moment._

Her thoughts were interrupted by a slight tug at the bottom of her leggings. Looking down, she noticed King looking up at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You alright Amity?” he asked, seemingly concerned. It was odd, him calling her by her first name. Amity couldn’t recall a time when he didn’t refer to her as “Blight,” or, in the presence of Eda and to her eternal embarrassment “Baby Blight.” So when he used her actual name, she could tell how concerned he was.

“I must look like a mess,” Amity acknowledged.

“Eh, all you people look like messes to me.” King quipped. “But yeah, you seem pretty distracted again,” he conceded.

Amity looked at the House, noticing for the first time that she hadn’t yet been assaulted by that _thing_. “Is he awake?” she asked anxiously. 

“Nah, he’s got an even tighter sleeping schedule than me and Eda.”

“I wasn’t aware you two had a sleeping schedule.”

“Very funny Blight, very funny.”

_Ah, that’s better._

“I was just hoping we could sit somewhere that wasn’t going to add any more dirt or dust to my clothes,” Amity added. “You know, while we wait.”

“Well, Eda says I’m not allowed in the house until Luz is back, and I’ve made the decision that that applies to you as well, so feel free to take your pick of the least dirty spot.” King swept his paw out over the yard, gesturing to an expanse completely free of least dirty spots. Amity sighed before making her way over to the porch, moving warily so as to avoid waking the creature embedded in the door. Her nerves were already shot. If that thing woke up and started talking to her, she might just burn the whole place down.

Eventually, King waddled over to her and resumed his spot in her lap. With a surprising amount of force, he pulled her hand back to her chin, and she obliged his request. Surely, the Tear wouldn’t throw them too far of course. She’d just wait here, in the sun, with a warm little demon in her lap, and totally stay awake. Amity yawned deeply, a side effect of a night spent tossing and turning, before her eyes slowly began to close…

* * *

Deep in the woods, a good distance from the Owl House, an impossibility hung in the air. Granted, the Isles were a place of many impossibilities made real, but this one was something that even the magic-savvy residents were unfamiliar with. For in the middle of the clearing, there stood an eight-foot Tear in the fabric of the world. At its edges were small hooks, also suspended, and carved with intricate glyphs of holding. Most curious of all was its tendency to, at regular intervals, produce a blushing human who slowly stacked a half-dozen suitcases at its mouth. 

After a few such trips, a second figure walked through the Tear. Eda took in her surroundings, eyes keen and teeth bared, on the lookout for anything that might make their walk back more of a chase. Thankfully, nothing seemed to have been drawn to the noise they must have been making. Relaxing a bit, Eda instead took in the small pile of belongings to her left. There was no way she was carrying any of that, but it did provide an opportunity for some training...

As she began to pull a few slips of parchment from the pouch at her side, Eda was startled out of her thoughts by the arrival of her ward. Immediately she noticed the tears welling at the corners of the young witch’s eyes, hitting her like a sucker punch to the gut.

“Hey kiddo, you going sof-”

Any quip that Eda was about to sling was cut off as Luz turned and wrapped her arms around her. She didn’t bother saying anything. She wasn’t good at that sort of thing outside of life-and-death situations anyways. So instead she just wrapped one of her arms around her student and let her cry it out. With her free hand, she brushed a glyph on her staff, pulling the hooks free with a series of popping noises. The Tear immediately began to seal back up, reality returning to the shape it liked best. In the distance, Eda heard trees begin to rustle.

“Sorry to break up whatever this is kid,” Eda began, letting the snark bleed back into her voice. “But we’re pretty far out in the woods, and I’m not looking to be anything’s meal.”

For the first time, Luz seemed to notice where exactly they were, and she took a moment to compose herself before looking to her mentor and nodding. 

“Why are we in the woods?” Luz asked, brushing the last of the tears from her eyes.

“Well that’s because the Isles have a funny way of thanking the witches that freed their magic,” Eda replied mirthlessly.

“Meaning?...”

“Meaning that the Tears aren’t like my portals used to be. At first I thought they were random, but Lily and her little protege did some next-level nerd stuff and figured out there was a pattern.” As she spoke, Eda pushed a hand back in her pouch, counted out six pieces of parchment, and handed three of them to Luz. “I still don’t get most of it, but I leverage Baby Blight into writing up a chart for me each month so that I can keep on top of things.”

Eda took one of the pieces of parchment and pressed it up against the first suitcase, before removing a quill from its pocket at the side of her pouch and tapping the tip of it, causing the beetle inside to start producing ink. With a practiced motion, the elder witch produced a glyph on the parchment, then pushed a good amount of magic into it, feeling herself grow light-headed as she did so. Still, the magic took hold, and with a bit of pressure on the bottom of the case, it slowly began to levitate into the air. She spared a look towards her pupil and brightened at the look of wonder in her eyes.

_Mission accomplished._

“That’s so cool Eda! Can you teach me how to do that?”

“You think I have you those pieces of parchment for fun?”

Luz looked embarrassed for a moment, especially when she looked down at the parchment in her hands. “Well, you know, it took me a while to figure out the other glyphs. I don’t know if I could just do this one on command.” She stopped as Eda set a hand on her shoulder.

“Luz, you look at me. You’re not the only witch that does magic with glyphs anymore. A lot of folks have started picking it up.” Seeing her apprentice grow crestfallen, Eda quickly pushed into her next statement. “But not one of them has picked it up as fast as you did.”

“Really?” Luz asked, hope returning to her face.

“Really,” Eda replied, matching her grin. “I’ve seen full-blown witches who take weeks to figure out how to do a light glyph, and these are the sort of people who could have given me a run for my money when I was in my prime.”

Luz laughed at that one. “Somehow I doubt any of those witches would have been a match for the Owl Lady,” she started, earning a chuckle and a “Damned right,” from her mentor. “But I appreciate it, Eda. That really helps.”

“Good, because I don’t need some mopey apprentice cramping my style. Now, watch and learn, because I’m only going to do this once…”

~---~

In the end, it took three or four tries before Luz was able to replicate the glyph’s effects, and another two before she could push the right amount of power into it to keep it from either never lifting off or shooting into the air. Thankfully, the one that nearly achieved orbit only had clothes in it.

Eda did notice, however, that Luz wouldn’t place any sort of glyphs on her guitar case, which she supposed made sense. What interested her more was the little bundle her apprentice took out of one of her bags and placed in her pocket. Her raised eyebrow at that one had gotten her little other than a blush and an abrupt change of subject.

By the time they were ready to leave, Luz had successfully levitated three of her bags entirely on her own using a glyph she’d learned a few minutes prior. Yet another impossibility made real on the Isles. 

_The time was as perfect as any._

“I’ve actually got something for you kid, before we leave,” Eda remarked.

“Like a present?” Luz asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I suppose you could call it a present,” Eda began, reaching into her pouch, “But really, I’m just returning something that was already yours to begin with.” And with that, Eda pulled out a squishy package, wrapped in paper. She started to hand it towards Luz, who quickly grabbed for it, then pulled it away at the last second. Smiling, she teased her student one last time, “try not to rip it to shreds this time,” then handed it over.

“Rip it to shreds?” Luz muttered before realization dawned on her features. 

“Oh.” 

“I figured you’d want to look the part for your return to the Isles.”

“Eda, it’s perfect.”

“Well, I’m glad. Performing the rites to enchant the material for that was a real pain only using glyphs,” Eda replied, grin widening as she looked at her student. “But I had some help from a few people.”

Eda watched as Luz took the gift up in her hands and unfurled it. The fabric slowly rippled in the faint wind that passed through the clearing. She watched as a faint blush touched her apprentice’s cheeks, hesitance peeking through before a clear pride crossed her features and she tossed it around her shoulders. For a moment, all she could see was a younger version of her ward, standing triumphant over the mightiest witch in the Isles, tattered cloak barely clinging to her shoulders.

This was a different sort of triumph, she realized. In a way, it was like far more than two years had passed.

_Luz had gone and grown up on her._

Eda blinked tears away, daring them to defy her will. “You look good kid,” she managed to choke out. “Baby Blight ain't going to know what hit her.”

“What was that?” Luz asked, oblivious.

“I said you look good kid,” Eda replied.

“Yeah I do! These Isles aren’t going to know what hit them!” Luz shouted to the air.

The woods around them suddenly grew quiet, signaling that their presence had been noticed. Eda tapped her staff against the ground, causing the three bags she’d levitated to fall in step behind her. 

“Alright kid, time to go,” Eda stated, watching with pride as Luz concentrated on her glyphs and mirrored her mentor. “Besides, I’m sure we’ve got folks waiting on us at this point.”

* * *

Amity wasn’t sleeping, honest. She doubted she could calm herself enough to actually make that possible. But she was dozing, and it was very pleasant to just sit in the sunlight, snoozing demon in her lap, and keep her worrying to a minimum. And then something blocked her light.

_Please no. Please, Titan no._

“Heeelllllooooo Amity!” The voice was grating, like glass against her eardrums, and almost subconsciously she made to draw fire to her hands. Taking a breath, she attempted to steady herself.

_Control yourself. Remember what Lilith taught you. Distance yourself from the world…_

“Amity, I’m talking to yooooou!”

_Screw it._

Letting the fire break free, Amity made ready to free the world of this scourge once and for all, and opened her eyes to look into the face of evil itself.

_He. Was. Right. There._

“Aghh!” Amity shouted, falling backward and pressing herself against the far wall. Her fire immediately sputtered out, and that horrid bird-tube thing slowly pressed its advantage. King groaned, thrown aside once again, and turned over to behold what must have been quite the sight. Amity Blight, personal ward of Lilith the Raven Lady and one of the most powerful young witches in the Isles, utterly terrified of Hooty - the elongated bird head whose body was synonymous with the house in some unholy fusion of demon and structure.

Amity trembled, bravery gone, as the owl’s visage drew closer to her. “Oh Amity, I just want to be your friend. Don’t you want to be my friend?”

“No, I don’t want to be your friend!” Amity replied, stammering voice still dripping with venom. “I want you to go back to whatever void you slithered out of.”

“Silly Amity. You can’t kill me in a way that matters,” Hooty responded. “Anyways, you wouldn’t want to hurt me in front of Eda, would you? She would be soooooo mad.”

“In front of Eda?” Amity asked, eager to ask if they were near until her question was drowned out by a long, screechingly loud “They’re baaaaaaaaack!”

Amity turned in the direction Hooty had convulsed towards. Dimly, she could make out two shapes in the brush that were approaching them. 

_Her pulse quickened._

One was clearly Eda, judging by the mane of hair around her shoulders. She absentmindedly brushed a hand against her own hair. She’d let it grow long and thick, but had kept it tamed. Did it look that wild from a distance? 

_Her pulse quickened._

“Booboo buddy!” King screamed, bursting off of the porch and rushing towards the opposite side of the yard. Eda stepped through the brush, laughing from the looks of it, and stood aside as the person she was walking with broke into a jog towards King.

_Her pulse pounded._

“¡Mijo! ¡Sigues siendo tan adorable como cuando te dejé!”

The first thing that Amity noticed was that Luz was now taller than her by a good few inches, her hair a bit longer. She’d grown up, of course. They both had. She also had to admit that the combo of grey hoodie, black jeans, and a beanie looked really good on her. Like, _really_ good. 

The second was that she was as radiant as ever. Not just pretty, not just beautiful or attractive, or any other word that she could come up with. Luz glowed with that same internal light that she had always had. The sort of light that made you want to be closer to it, even just to look at it, just so that you could feel its warmth. And watching her stand there, picking King up (despite his half-hearted protests), and spinning him in a circle, the purest expression of joy on her face, Amity realized just how long she had been in the dark.

And then she saw Eda glance her way, a fiendish smile crossing her face. She watched as Eda slowly lifted her hand, and the young witch silently pleaded with her to stop. But instead, her grin just widened and she snapped her fingers. Immediately, Amity felt pressure behind her as Hooty pushed her up off of the porch and into the yard. And then Luz looked at her.

_Her pulse stopped._

Silence, for an instant. Two sets of eyes, locking across the clearing. Paired blushes, one far deeper than the other, and then ignition. Amity barely had time for a thought, certainly not enough to get out any words, and definitely not enough to get out the three specific ones she wanted to say, the ones she had been preparing to say, before Luz broke into that grin. 

“Amity!” Luz cried, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around the shorter witch’s frame. Amity began to put things together, was just about to the point where she could move, was about to wrap her arms around Luz in turn, and then it happened. She felt her feet lift slightly off the ground, Luz’s arms wrapping around her tighter, and then she _spun_ her.

_Amity waved slightly as she felt her soul depart. What a shame._

She was dimly aware of the fact that Luz had set her back down (though she hadn’t yet removed her hands from Amity’s arms). Was vaguely aware that Luz was talking to her, little pleasantries like “I like your hair, you grew it out!” and “How do you like my cloak? Eda said you helped with the enchanting,” but none of that seemed very important. There was something she had planned on doing, on saying. Words? Or a phrase, maybe? 

_How exactly do you encapsulate “Welcome back, light of my life. Since you’ve been gone I’ve been half a person and didn’t even realize it.” in a few words?_

Dimmer still, she can see King in the background, waddling towards them with such a look of offense on his face that she’s surprised he isn’t squealing. Maybe he is, and she just can’t hear it. She watches as Eda grabs King by the scruff of his neck and gives her a little shooing gesture, as if to say “get on with it already!”

Right, the words. She should say the words.

“ _Etvosdesiderabat_ ,” Amity finally manages to rush out.

“Uhm, bless you?” Luz asks, confusion writ across her features.

“No, not that,” Amity replies, earning only more confusion from the human in front of her. She feels the blush for the first time, burning like a wildfire across her face, and wonders how long it has been there. She stills herself, taking the moment it provides her with to organize something out of her jumbled thoughts.

“ _Et Vos Desiderabat_ ,” Amity said, more firmly this time, but still stuttering slightly.

Luz laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck as she looked back at her. “Is that… Are you speaking Latin?”

Amity paused, feeling the color drain from her face. “Yes. I thought?...” She trailed off, suddenly unsure.

“Oh Amity,” Luz said softly, wrapping the witch in another hug. “That’s really sweet, but I don’t speak Latin.”

“You don’t… But, Latina?” Amity replied, steadily losing any semblance of coherence.

_And then Luz laughed._

It was a soft sound, quiet and close to her ear, and if it had been under any other circumstance, Amity would have melted. But now it just made her feel cold.

“That’s really sweet of you Amity,” Luz whispered, pulling herself away and looking Amity in the eye. And from the look of her, she meant it. But of course she meant it, this was Luz. She doubted if the human had an insincere bone in her body. “Really, it is,” she continued, pulling her away from her thoughts. “Even if I didn’t understand a word of it.” That last part, she delivered with a smile. But not her usual, sunny smile. This one was different, almost sly. With a start, Amity realized that Luz was teasing her.

_She should really start talking._

“You didn’t learn too much, did you?” Her voice was concerned now. Amity wanted so desperately for it to not be.

“O-of course not,” she finally sputtered out. “Just a few words for fun. Y’know, to surprise you?” Someday, she was going to figure out a spell that would prevent her from blushing. That should have been what she spent her time on instead of learning some titan-forsaken human language that Luz. Didn’t. Even. Speak.

“Well, let me give you your first lesson in Spanish then,” Luz replied, still with that same teasing tone in her voice. Isles, that tone was dangerous. Then she leaned in. “ _Eres linda cuando estás nerviosa._ ”

“What does that mean?” Amity sputtered out. 

_She’s too close. We’re too close. This is bad. This is bad._

“I said,” Luz began, finally pulling back from her. “You’re pretty cute when you’re nervous.”

_Huh._

“What’d you say to her kid?” Did she know that voice? Low and husky, always a bit of a sarcastic tone to it. Eda?

“I don’t know. She just froze up like this.” That was Luz’s. Plain and simple.

“Well I’m not going to wait around here for Blight to figure out how to work her mouth and legs again. I’m hungry.” Soft black fur, moments shared in the light. That was King.

“Weeeeellll, allow me to open up!” That did it. Moment broken.

“Amity, come on! Help me unpack!” Luz again, a hand in her own. Pulling her… into the house? Right, the Owl House. She was there.

_Isles to Amity, you need to come back._

“Right,” she finally said, startled to find herself in the living room. She looked to Luz, the same expression still on her face. Felt the blush start across her face and gritted her teeth to drive herself through it. “Where do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so at this point you should be starting to get an idea of how I write. Sometimes humorous, oftentimes dramatic. Really, I'm just soft. I am going to try to get a chapter out every 3-5 days, but my schedule is weird, so we'll see how that goes. Expect the next one by this weekend. As always, thank you so much for all of the support you've given this thus far!


	4. El Asilo

There are times when, upon seeing something familiar, you get a sudden flash of memories. Of experiences shared in that space, or with that thing, or with a certain person. The moment Luz stepped into the living room of the Owl House, her memories hit her like an eighteen-wheeler loaded down with nostalgia. There was the couch where she’d sat, a hundred times over, with an ever-increasing number of friends and found family members. On the walls were the dozens of bottles, holding all manner of potions, tinctures, and concoctions that she couldn’t even begin to identify. Scattered about the floor were the mementos of a life she’d once been familiar with.

There were, of course, new additions here and there. Eda had added a new table to the middle of the room, the old one either broken or (equally likely) having achieved sentience and gone off to make its way in the world. The biggest difference, however, was that it was clean. Not clean by anyone else’s estimation, of course. To most, it would look like the love-child of a dragon’s hoard and an overstocked library. It was what Luz loved most about the place. Yet, still, there was a sense of order and organization to things that had never been there before. An unfamiliarity that was also strangely familiar.

She was interrupted by King scrabbling forward, separating her from Amity as he pulled on her pant leg and drew her into the room with him. Eda swung around her other side, brushing a hand over her shoulder as she went, before pressing a hand against the wall and catching her eye. That faint glimmer in her eye was signature Eda, the essence of a smirk hiding under a neutral expression. 

Chuckling, the witch pressed her hand against the same spot on the wall, and Luz caught the signature yellow spark of her magic. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the ceiling, where the elaborate murals that had always curled along its breadth suddenly flashed to life in response. 

_But they were different too._

Before, she had seen images of the Isles, and of a massive bird (an owl, presumably) swooping over the expanse. Now, there were other scenes carved into the surface above her. With a start, she recognized herself in several of them. In one corner, she was flying over the cold expanse of the Knee, a great slab of ice a few feet below her having propelled her into the air. In another, she saw the arching monoliths of the Ribs, herself and Eda astride the elder witch’s staff as they outflew a literal dragon. That one urged a momentary pang of heat, and Luz rubbed the spot on her hip where she knew the burn was still faintly visible.

Each image was a story. Eda was, of course, a common theme in each of them. She always seemed to be lurking in the background or guiding her young pupil across the wilds. But Luz was there just as often. Her face repeated a hundred times over. Sometimes contorted in fear, other times overcome with joy. Most of the time though, she just looked fierce, powerful, heroic even. All at once, the truth hit her. 

_She was home._

Luz looked to her mentor, seeing that the spark had gone out, that a certain glassiness had replaced it. Her mentor nodded at her, lightly brushing at her eyes under the guise of scratching an itch.

“I, uh, needed something to occupy my time with,” Eda quipped, breaking the silence. “Once I reclaimed my title as the most powerful witch in the Isles, I figured I should start working on my legend.” She smiled at the thought of that, looking up at the ceiling and letting her eyes drift across the scene above. “It just so happens that you kept popping up in all the best moments.”

“Ahem!” came a small voice from somewhere around Luz’s knee. “The rest of us are still here too you know!” 

Eda scowled at the demon as Luz knelt down in front of him, rubbing the space between his horns in precisely the spot she knew would mollify him. “Is someone jealous that he’s not in the ceiling mural as much?” she inquired, brushing his horns with her palm as she stood back up. “I’m sure if you asked nicely, Eda would add you to a few of them.” 

“Fat chance of that,” Eda replied, walking over to the couch and letting herself fall onto the cushions with a satisfying oomph. 

Luz glanced at Amity, hoping she’d share in her smile, only to see the witch gazing up in awe at the images above her. Her voice was small, that same awe bleeding through as she whispered “You finally finished it then.”

“Well, I’d hardly call it finished. There’s still plenty of space to fill towards the middle. But yeah, I got all of the scenes done.”

“And the sympathetic tethers?” Amity replied, utterly mystifying Luz.

“Lily teach you about those?”

“She mentioned them in passing, so I pursued their purpose in the library,” at that, Amity paused, tracing one of the images with her finger before coming to a stop at an image of an enormous troll, half of its body wrapped in vines and the other frozen solid. “Though the book I read never mentioned using them like this.”

“Figures you’d assign yourself extra reading Baby Blight,” Eda muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Still, Amity certainly seemed to pick up on it.

“The un-inquisitive mind-” she began.

“Quickly grows dull,” Eda finished, smirk cutting across her face. “You think I don’t know that one? Got drummed into our heads enough as fledglings.”

Luz felt more and more lost with each passing quip. Whatever they were talking about, it was a lot more complicated than etching glyphs onto paper. 

“Still,” Amity continued, “pulling this much ambient power from the Isles is no small feat. You’re practically turning this place into some kind of power storage building.”

“Like a battery!” Luz interjected, thrilled at finally catching on to what was happening.

“Like a wha-” Amity began at precisely the same moment Eda laughed and shouted “Exactly kid!” Leaning back in her position on the couch, looking immensely pleased with herself, Eda propped her feet on the table and locked her gaze on her student.

“The way I see it, if I’m not going to be able to get my old magic back, I might as well push the boundaries of this new stuff and see exactly what it can do.”

“That’s so cool Eda!” Luz shouted, crossing the room and plopping herself on the couch next to her mentor. “How much do you have stocked up? How do you measure it? Do you even know? Does it give you lair actions?”

Eda took a moment to think over the questions, before firing off a series of “A lot, I don’t, see the previous, and yes.”

“You’ll have to show me,” Luz whispered, eyes wide.

“All will be made clear in time, owlet,” Eda replied, pushing Luz’s beanie down on her head and earning a faint squeak of protest for it. “Now how about you let me get some rest and take Baby Blight up to your room.”

Luz jumped at that one, suddenly guilty as she realized that she had basically forgotten Amity was there for a moment. Looking over, she saw that Amity had gone full-tomato. Was she mad at her? Nah, it was Amity. If she was mad at her, she’d know.

_It did look adorable on her though._

“Amity,” Luz said, getting the witch’s attention immediately, “help me take this stuff up, would you?”

“Yeah, sure,” the witch replied, turning her finger in a tight circle and causing all six bags to hover slightly off of the ground. 

“Careful, Blight, don’t want to tire yourself out already,” Eda teased, earning an even deeper blush from the young witch for her efforts. 

“Leave her be Eda,” Luz warned cheerily. “If she wants to carry all of my things up the stairs, more power to her. The last thing I want to do is misjudge another glyph and put a suitcase through your ceiling.”

“What about me!” King squealed from his position between them all.

“What about you, pipsqueak?” Eda asked.

“I can carry things.”

“Like what?”

“Like this!” He replied, rushing towards one of the suitcases and hefting it over his head. “Behold, my strength!”

Eda glanced at Amity, smirk crossing her features. “I’ll pay you twenty snails to drop the spell on that one.”

“I’m tempted,” the younger witch replied, “but I’m not looking to crush any demons right now.”

“Crush?” King whispered, looking at the suitcase above him.

“Oh leave him be, you two!” Luz exclaimed, crossing the room and pulling King up from the floor. “You don’t have to worry about carrying anything _mijo_. Amity’s a big, strong witch and she’s going to carry everything up for us.”

“I am?” Amity asked, realization dawning on her face. Luz flashed her the cheesiest, most pleading smile she could, moving King so that she could hold him under one arm while she picked her guitar case up with the other.

_There was that blush again. And were her ears… moving?_

“It would seem that I am,” she stated plainly, wincing at the cracking noise Eda made behind her. Luz traipsed up the stairs, Amity trailing behind her, and the two got to work.

~---~

“Wait, so they’ve been together for a year?” Luz shouted across the room. She winced as King opened a single eye and glared at her from his perch on the windowsill, where he had curled up to bask in the sun. Quickly going back on his insistence to help once he realized there was actually work to be done.

Amity looked up from the floor, where she was steadily organizing books along some enigmatic system that Luz already knew she was going to mess up. The quizzical expression that the witch gave her made Luz blush slightly.

“I figured you would have found out some other way,” she finally said, breaking the silence between them. Abruptly, she switched tacks, as if this wasn’t the most important thing she’d said in the last half an hour. “Do humans have an equivalent for the pseudo-fiction genre?”

“I have no idea what that is Amity,” Luz began, before crossing the room and sitting herself down in front of the witch. “But seriously, you can’t just tell me two of my best friends are dating and act like that isn’t a big deal.”

Amity rolled her eyes at that one. “While I seriously doubt your judgment if you consider my sister to be one of your ‘best friends,’ Viney wasn’t exactly subtle about her feelings.”

“Well yeah, but still.” Luz responded, considering it to be a perfectly acceptable answer. Judging by Amity’s sigh, she did not. She wordlessly handed a stack of books to Luz and pointed to a shelf behind her, who placed them there without taking her eyes off of the witch in front of her. She was rewarded with a faint blush and a muttered “show-off” from Amity, which only widened her own grin.

“For the record,” Luz continued, leaning in closer. “I think I have excellent judgment when it comes to my friends.”

Amity sputtered something that vaguely resembled the word “whatever,” but came out more like a long, whatever-esque huff. Which, for the record, was entirely unfair. There was no mundane or magical reason that should allow for a single person to be that adorable. And yet…

Luz was pulled from her ruminations by the sudden look of surprise that crossed Amity’s features. Craning her head over the bag and following her gaze, her own fell on the stack of books at the bottom of the suitcase. The visage of a certain white-robed witch immediately indicated which ones they were. 

“You brought them with you.” Amity’s voice was quiet, almost halting. Tinged with disbelief and wonder equally. She started as Luz reached into the bag, pulling out the first book of the stack, briefly brushing the witch’s in the process.

“Well of course I did,” she replied sunnily, delighting in the pink that crept across her friend’s cheeks. “How could I not? All the memories wrapped up in these.”

“I just figured that we wouldn’t need them anymore,” Amity began, looking up to meet Luz’s eyes, the sheer vulnerability in the gaze almost taking her back for a moment. “Now that you’re here. Like, actually here. I guess I just… Well, I don’t know what I thought. Suppose I just wasn’t expecting to see them.”

Luz set the book down on the stack that Amity was slowly creating with the others in the series, earning a huff and a quick rearrangement of the addition to the bottom of the pile for her efforts. Leaning back, she pressed her hands against the floorboards and watched the witch hem and haw over the best way to organize them.

“Well,” she finally replied, “it is true that I’ve got a far superior way of keeping in touch with you now, but I could hardly just leave all those memories behind.” Amity’s cheeks went from pink to red at that one and, yeah, her ears were wiggling slightly. Luz doubted she was even aware of that particular quirk.

_God, she wanted to give her something else to blush about._

“That makes sense, I suppose,” Amity conceded.

“Not to mention all the work you put into making sure their enchantment would work in the human realm,” Luz added. She got a chuckle out of the witch for that one. The rueful sort of chuckle that implied exhaustion as much as joy.

“To be fair, Lilith did most of the heavy lifting on that one.”

“Yeah, but she wouldn’t have come up with the idea for it unless you brought it up,” Luz countered, desperate for Amity to at least take one compliment.

“It’s honestly a lot like those tethers Eda is working into the House,” Amity remarked, seemingly more to herself than to the other person in the room. Luz didn’t mind. Thinking Amity was one of the best Amity’s. Right next to “frustrated Amity” and “Amity doing crazy-powerful magic.” She supposed that “blushing Amity” was also a good one, even if it was super common.

But she didn’t say any of that.

“Right, the Simposetic Tethers,” she added instead, helpfully.

“The Sympathetic Tethers,” Amity corrected, locking her eyes on Luz with that same intensity that had been all too common the first few times they’d met.

“That’s what I said,” Luz replied, chuckling at the scowl that crossed the witch’s features. “What are those anyway?”

“They’re… hmm,” Amity took a moment to look around the room, lost in thought. “How to explain this in a way you’ll actually understand,” she muttered. Were it anyone else, Luz might have been offended. She was no idiot after all. But she knew Amity knew that. Which meant it must have been some really complicated stuff. Her excitement was hard to contain at the thought of that, and she slowly tapped out a beat on the floor while she waited for the answer. 

Amity suddenly focused all of her attention on her, fixing her with a grin that caused a minor skip in her heartbeat. She grew thoughtful for a moment, and Luz realized she was listening for something a moment before she started tapping her own fingers against the floorboards in sync with hers. Embarrassed, she made to stop, but Amity held up a finger.

“It’s like this,” she finally stated, continuing to tap her fingers on the floor in sync with Luz. “Now speed up,” she demanded. Luz complied, tapping out a quick staccato that Amity listened to for a moment before catching on to and repeating. 

“You’re pretty good at that Am,” Luz replied, pulling out an old nickname in the hopes of getting another blush. She was disappointed for a moment when she didn’t get one, until she noticed that the expression of concentration on her face was a lot better.

“Years of dance and piano,” Amity replied absentmindedly. She suddenly switched up the tempo on her own, losing Luz for a moment before she caught up to the new pattern. “It’s exactly like that,” Amity said, triumph clear in her voice. Luz felt the realization dawn on her features, blushing slightly at the chuckle that left Amity’s throat at the sight of it.

“So when one changes the tempo,” Luz began, switching it up again.

“The other takes a moment, acknowledges the change, and repeats it,” Amity finished, quickly picking up on the new pattern. “And the more power you pour into it, the quicker the response time is,” she added. “That’s why working a mid-power tether into each of those books meant that one of us could write something in our copy and it would appear in the other.” Amity suddenly grew thoughtful. “Though, why it worked across the boundary between the Isles and the human realm is anyone’s guess.”

“Well I’m glad that it did,” Luz remarked, finally earning that blush she was looking for.

“I am too,” Amity replied quietly, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

“Ugh, you guys are so gross!” 

~---~

The voice immediately broke Luz out of what she realized must have been way too long of a stare. Even still, she couldn’t stop the flash of aggravation at the demon who was its source.

Her eyes immediately flashed to Amity (because of course they did), taking in how the witch, though blushing furiously, had returned to sorting and stacking her books. King, on the other hand, was glaring down at her from the windowsill again, hands on his hips. Luz wanted to be more frustrated with him, but he really did look so adorable standing there like a little angry baby.

Pushing herself off of the ground, she darted towards him, lifting him in her arms and pulling him close to her chest. His struggles were useless against her grip. Almost immediately he went limp in her arms.

“Unhand me, woman!” His screams weren’t even half-hearted. Quarter-hearted maybe.

“ _Pero eres un bebé tan necesitado_ ,” she cooed at him.

“You know I don’t speak that human language,” King shouted in response.

“Well, that’s a shame, because I was singing your praises.”

“You were?”

“Oh yeah, I was saying how I can’t live without you. How you’re the breath in my lungs and my one and only reason for returning to the Isles,” Luz waxed poetic, really laying it on thick. As expected, it was exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Ha, you hear that Blight? The one and only reason.”

“Oh yes,” Amity responded, deadpan, as she placed books on the shelf. “I’m sure it had nothing to do with fulfilling her life-long goal of learning magic.”

“Well,” Luz began, catching Amity’s eye and throwing her a quick wink over King’s shoulder. “There may have been a few other reasons I came back.” Pulling King up in front of her so that he was at eye-level, Luz continued. “But the people were definitely the biggest factor.” Under his legs, Luz could see the red hue of the witch’s face even from behind.

_Another point for Luz Noceda. She was terrifyingly good at this._

Realizing the compromised position he was being held in, King started kicking out with his arms and legs. Chuckling, Luz lowered him to the ground. Where he immediately scampered towards the door, only for it to open and send him skittering across the floor to avoid being crushed. 

“Dang it, I missed,” Eda quipped as she walked into the room, King scowling up at her in response. She glanced around the room, mismatched furniture and all, a faint expression of approval on her face. “Already making it look lived-in kid.”

“Well, that is the point of a bedroom,” Luz snarked back, earning another approving glance from her mentor.

“How about you leave the sarcasm to the professionals, kiddo, and I’ll leave the inane references and empire breaking to you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Eda glanced around the room again before her gaze settled on Amity, who was placing the last of the books on the shelf, pink still faintly coloring her otherwise pale features. Luz saw something evil cross her mentor’s features. She gulped in expectation. “What’s got you all pink Baby Blight? Besides the obvious, I guess.”

Amity slammed the book in her hand into the back of the bookcase with a loud thud, causing Eda to burst into laughter. “I wasn’t interrupting something, was I?”

Luz immediately jumped to the rescue of the steadily reddening witch, though she couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice. “What? No. We were just putting books away and stuff. And King was here too, so nothing weird was happening…” She realized her mistake a moment too late.

“Oh,” Eda began, a wolfish grin spreading across her face. “So nothing was happening because King was here, huh?”

“That’s gross, Luz,” Kind added, though whether he was sincere or in on it, Luz couldn’t tell. Amity was exactly zero help, instead choosing to pull the same three books out over and over again and rearranging them in what she must have thought was an entirely inconspicuous manner.

“That’s not it at all. We weren’t doing anything because it’s your house, and we wouldn’t. I mean, we don’t…” Luz trailed off, desperate. “Tell her Amity!” There was a series of thuds from over by the bookcase, and Luz didn’t dare look to see what Amity had thought a valid response was in this situation. Instead, her gaze stayed firmly locked on Eda, who still had that same awful grin on her face.

“Hey, whatever you say, kid,” Eda replied, drawing out each syllable. “I’ve got business in town anyways, so you won’t have to worry about that for much longer.”

“You do?” Luz asked, suddenly curious.

“Sure do, and I need King’s help to handle it,” the elder witch replied.

“You do?” King asked, only to get a quick nudge with her boot. “Right,” he replied, “I totally forgot about that.” He scampered out of the room, Luz’s last hope at aid going with him.

Eda turned to leave, but not before glancing at Luz one last time over her shoulder. “I’d say not to do anything I wouldn’t do but, well, you know, feel free to make up for lost time...” she trailed off, winking at Luz before adding “just keep it to your room, alright?”

Luz felt herself practically combust as Eda closed the door behind her. Felt a similar burst of heat as she heard the front door open and do the same.

_All she had to do was never acknowledge Amity again. She could do that, just stand here, in this spot, forever. Easy peasy._

“Luz,” Amity whispered from the other side of the room.

_Damn it._

Luz turned towards the sound of her voice. Immediately, she broke free from her own thoughts at the sight of Amity standing there, arms crossed in front of her, that same look of vulnerability on her face.

“Maybe it’s better if I just leave…” Amity began.

“No!” Luz shouted, cutting her off, before kicking herself internally at the way it made Amity wince.

“No, I mean,” Luz trailed off. Steeling herself, she crossed the room in a few quick strides and carefully placed her hands on the witch’s arms. Amity looked up at her, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, and Luz felt a knife drive through her heart. Whatever she was going to say before was forgotten, her concern taking over. 

“Amity, what’s wrong?” Luz asked, voice soft. In response, Amity lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the human in an almost painfully tight hug. With a start, Luz realized that the witch was clinging to her more than she was actually hugging her. The slight pitching to her voice made her realize that she was crying in earnest now.

“I missed you,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “That’s what I was trying to say out there, in the yard.”

“I missed you too, Am,” Luz began before Amity cut her off.

“No, not like that,” she whispered forcefully.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s just… It’s been really hard here ever since everything happened. My parents, they. They just,” Amity choked out, each word harder for her to get out than the last.

“Hey,” Luz began, attempting to pull away, to look the witch in the eye. In response, she just clung tighter, and Luz immediately stopped. She waited a moment, before continuing. “You never did tell me what happened with your parents.”

There was silence for a long moment, then a quiet “They left.”

“What do you mean by ‘they left’ Am?” 

“After everything happened, after you went back. They stuck around for a while, but then people started moving on, and for a while there it was really dangerous to be associated with the emperor.” Amity paused for a moment, collecting herself before she continued. “Lilith, people knew she played a part in getting rid of him, and she vouched for me, so most of them backed off when it came to me. Ed and Em too. Everyone knew they didn’t get along with our parents. But we kept getting letters, and people kept showing up at the house, and one day we just woke up and they were gone.”

The silence stretched out again, broken only by the witch’s muffled sobs into Luz’s chest. There wasn’t anything she could say, anything she could do, so she just held onto Amity and let her cry.

“They didn’t even leave us a note. They just left. And Ed and Em, they could barely take care of themselves, let alone another kid. We kept appearances up for a while, but eventually Eda and Lilith caught on. Eda helped the twins get set up in an apartment in town, and I ended up going to live with Lilith, to finish up my studies.” Amity paused again, and when she started back up, her voice was stronger, less halting. “And the saddest part of it all is that I’m actually happier living with her than I was with my parents. But it was still hard. Something was still missing.”

At that, she finally pulled away, looking Luz in the eye. She could still see the tears in the corners of Amity’s eyes, as well as the long trails that went down the side of her face. Almost subconsciously, she reached out and brushed one off of her cheek, catching her breath as the witch leaned into the touch.

“You were still missing,” she finally whispered. Luz waited as she took a moment to still herself, eyes closed, collecting her thoughts. “And I’m just really glad you’re back.” At that, her face spread into a grin, and for a moment, she was sure that her heart had stopped. “Everyone else can tease, and give whatever meaning they want to it, and honestly, I’m super confused about everything right now, but I’m just really glad you’re back. For good this time.”

There was a part of Luz that wanted to define it. That wanted to lean in, brush her lips against the witch’s, and tell her exactly what she was feeling, but then she looked at Amity. Really looked at her. How fragile she seemed. How confused she really was. The love that was there, for certain, but no form to it just yet. Expectation and hesitance in equal measure.

_Now wasn’t the time._

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there with you. Not in the way you needed me to be.” Luz tucked a strand of hair behind the witch’s ear, surprised to find that her vision was growing cloudy and indistinct as she did so. “And it breaks my heart to know that you were going through all of that and you didn’t tell me,” she continued, “but I am here now - for good - and we’ll figure this out together, however long it takes.” Amity met her gaze, and couldn’t help but flinch at the anxiety that flashed across her eyes. 

“I’m sorry to put all of that on you like that,” she began, only for Luz to cut her off again. Gentler, this time. 

“Amity,” she said forcefully, wrapping her hands around hers. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” 

In response, the witch closed the distance between them again, wrapping her arms around her in a hug that was everything the last one was not. Luz leaned into it, wrapping her arms around Amity’s waist and just holding her there.

They stayed like that for a while. Making up for lost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one just got out of control, but I'm actually really proud of it. Hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.


	5. Make it Double

At that moment, wrapped in Luz's arms, there were three things that Amity Blight, one of the most feared witches in the Boiling Isles, knew for certain;

  1. There was absolutely nothing in the world quite so comforting as the hug that she was currently wrapped in. Nothing that could match that warmth, that sense of closeness and acceptance which came with it.
  2. It had gone on entirely too long for it to be considered appropriate.
  3. There was exactly one other person whose opinion she cared about on that matter.



And so she held on, as long as she dared, as long as Luz would let her. The answer to which, thankfully, seemed to be as long as she needed it. One Amity was perfectly fine with. If she’d let her, she likely would have stayed there for hours. Strong arms wrapped around her frame, holding her close. The faint scent of something soft and familiar filling her nose.

_ Of course, all good things must come to an end. _

Slowly, her mind began to wander. Away from the past and all the hurt it held. Towards the present, and towards her present situation especially. She felt the coal drop into her stomach, the heat that spread out from it in all directions. Filling her chest with fire, setting her face ablaze. 

_ They were really close. Way too close. _

Reluctantly,  _ painfully _ , Amity unwrapped her hands from behind Luz’s back, pulling herself away from the human and her embrace. Still, Luz’s hands refused to leave the small of her back, keeping her close even as her eyes flicked to her face. Slowly, the human’s eyes fluttered open, as if she had fallen asleep.

“Hey,” she whispered. Casually, softly. As if they’d just met on the street, not  _ held _ each other tenderly for Titan knows how long.

“Hey yourself,” Amity croaked back, voice hoarse. Her knees grew weak at the sight of Luz’s smile, the pure contentment that radiated from her. Chills raced up her spine at the sensation of hands tapping slow rhythms on her lower back.

_ Focus Amity, focus! _

“I think I lost track of time there,” the witch finally rasped, taking a moment to collect herself before continuing. “I don’t want to keep you from any plans you might have made.”

“It’s no issue,” Luz replied placidly. She did give Amity the dignity of sparing a glance out the window. Following her gaze, she realized that they hadn’t been standing there for an  _ obscenely _ long amount of time. The sun was certainly lower than it had been, but she hardly had the mental power to run that calculation at the moment. As she turned back to Luz, she found a pair of brown eyes locked firmly on her.

_ That same damned smile plastered across her face. Was she ever going to move her hands off of her waist? Did she want her to? _

“Honestly,” Luz began, bringing one arm up to brush a lock of hair out of the witch’s face, “I wasn’t expecting you to be waiting there for me. Figured I was going to have to go find you.” Her smile changed then, going from something broad and inviting to something a lot more sly though - Isles, it pained her to admit it - no less inviting. “So really, I’m actually ahead of schedule for once.”

“Imagine that,” Amity managed to squeak out weakly, earning a light chuckle from the human in front of her. Luz opened her mouth as if to say something, an all too familiar glint in her eyes, but seemed to stop herself, as if second-guessing it.

“What is it,” Amity asked.

“It’s nothing,” Luz replied. Too quick. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Luz,” Amity teased, drawing out the last letter. That one actually drew out a blush to match her own with the human, and her competitive streak was not going to let her keep from pressing the advantage. She leaned in ever so slightly, delighting in the way the human gulped as she did so. “Please tell me?”

The hand that had been playing with her hair shot to the back of Luz’s neck, an extension of the nervous expression that crossed her face. Amity wondered for a moment if she’d said something wrong. If she’d been too forward. She had only been trying to give the same energy back. Mayb-

“I like your perfume,” Luz mumbled out of the corner of her mouth. Eyes meeting Amity’s own, the witch watched as the human’s face bloomed into a brilliant shade pink. She worried that Luz might dislocate something if she rubbed her neck any harder. “ _ Eres tan bonita que me pone nerviosa. _ ”

“Luz,” the witch complained, “you know I don’t speak Spanish.” She winced at that one. That was one mistake she wasn’t going to get over anytime soon.

She was quiet for a long moment. Long enough that Amity wondered if she was ever going to get an answer. She froze as Luz chuckled ruefully and covered her face with her hands. Her back felt a lot colder without at least one of her arms wrapped around it. Finally, she spread her fingers so that she could glance at the witch between them and all but whispered, “I said that you’re so pretty it makes me nervous.”

_ oh _

“Let’s go find Augustus and Willow!” Amity shouted in response. There was not enough time or emotional energy to unpack all of that, ever. Luz looked at her in alarm, and she felt fire flare back into her cheeks. 

“What? Amity, I don’t…” She paused for a moment, looking the witch over, stoking the flames even higher. Luz seemed to go through a couple different questions, stopping herself before she asked each in turn, finally settling on a simple “Are you alright?”

“Great! Excellent! Wonderful! Why do you ask?” Amity replied, desperately forcing a grin to her face. This was normal. Nothing was burning in her chest. “Why don’t we just go find Augustus and Willow? I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

“Well, I suppose we could both see if they aren’t busy,” Luz acquiesced. 

“GreatI’llseeyoudownstairsgottochecksomethingbye,” Amity sputtered out, scampering out of the room before Luz could stop her. She had just enough wherewithal to take the stairs two at a time before turning into the kitchen. 

_ That should be enough distance. _

Amity took a few deep breaths, pulling air in as long as she could before dispelling it in a single huff. When that didn’t work, she circled a finger, blasting herself with a clarity spell, desperately trying to quell the heat that was still spreading through her chest. Try as she might, she couldn’t get that image out of her head. The words out of her mind.

_ She said I was pretty. _

Not cute. Not adorable. Pretty. So pretty, in fact, that it made her  _ nervous _ . She was the nervous one. They couldn’t both be the nervous one. How would they get anything done? 

_ Get anything done? _

Feeling her blush grow even deeper, rather than fading, Amity instead darted towards the fridge, throwing the door open. Eda had to have a cold stone. The witch cast her gaze over the fridge’s contents. Not that much food to be honest. Lots of jars and vessels with symbols on them she probably could have been identified if she wasn’t in a full blown panic. 

_ Where were her cold stones? Why would a witch not have cold stones? _

“Uh, Amity?” Came a familiar voice from the doorway. She felt her heart sink somewhere about a mile beneath her shoes. “You looking for something?”

Grabbing the first thing her eyes caught upon, Amity spun to face Luz, closed the door and leaned against it. She did her best to look casual. She also realized there was approximately a zero percent chance she looked casual. “Sorry, I just…” she trailed off, looking at the item in her hand - a bottle of apple blood, “got really thirsty!”

Uncorking the bottle, she knocked some of the noxious substance back, desperately hoping it wasn’t the hard stuff. Isles being merciful, it wasn’t. That didn’t mean it tasted any better. Hiding her expression of disgust, she met Luz’s eyes. The human looked at her suspiciously.

_ She needed to say something, anything, to make this work. _

“I just needed the fluids, you know?” Amity chuckled nervously, casting wildly for a reason. “All that crying really made me dehydrated.”

Silence reigned over the kitchen. Luz looked incredulous. Amity wondered if there was some possibility that a meteor would be so kind as to strike her now. 

At that precise moment, there was a knock on the front door, and it was the most beautiful noise she’d ever heard.

Luz glanced back at the door, confusion writ across her features. “That’s odd,” she began, leaving the entrance to the kitchen and walking towards it. “Normally Hooty just lets in anyone he knows.”

As Amity followed her into the living room, she heard a voice that made her blood run cold. Two voices, in fact. Horrifyingly familiar noises that convinced her, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she was cursed. Absolutely and utterly hexed. The inevitability of her demise stretched out in front of her, condensing into a single point where she could see Luz opening the door, a single card pulled from who knows where, but a smile on her face, ready to either greet or do battle with whoever was on the other side. Amity smiled at the thought that the image she had now would be the last she’d ever see.

And then Luz opened the door.

~---~

Standing there, shoulder to shoulder, were her siblings. Emira’s eyes immediately lit up at the sight of Luz, arms widening as she made to scoop her into a hug. Edric glanced at the two of them for a moment, before resuming his conversation with Hooty, waiting his turn. The fact that he was the only person Amity knew who got along with the thing was all the reason she needed to write both of them off for good.

She caught up to the world eventually. The standard phrases, the “how have you been” and “we missed you so much” delivered in unison, the result of a lifetime of concerted, twin-enabled annoyance on full display. Eventually, though, their eyes roamed over the room, and almost at the exact same moment, they settled on Amity. She watched, whimpering internally as their faces split into matching grins. She didn’t even bother shaking her head. It was pointless. 

“Hey Mittens,” Edric began, already going for the throat with the old nickname. “What are the odds we’d find you here before us?”

“I’d say they’re pretty good Ed,” Emira replied, wrapping one arm around Luz’s waist as she walked into the room. Amity blushed furiously, matching Luz’s own as she looked frantically between the three siblings in the room. “Especially considering the letters…”

“And the books…” He continued.

“And the drawings…” She replied.

“And the poetry…” He quipped.

“Oh,” she began, “and the long, pining glances out the window.”

_ Amity felt her soul up and leave her body. In earnest this time. It had a little hat and a briefcase and everything. Off to the big city it went. _

Distant, she watched as Edric wrapped an arm around Luz’s shoulders, eliciting another blush from the human, before gesturing out with a single arm in a broad sweeping motion across the ceiling. Luz followed his gaze, staring up at the images on the ceiling, as Emira lightly waved to catch Amity’s attention.

“ _ How did it go? _ ” the elder Blight mouthed.

In response, Amity just shook her head. Immediately, she saw something resembling sympathy cross her sister’s features, and the shock of it actually drew her out of her contemplation of the end of all things. She watched as Emira tapped Ed’s shoulder - an odd little sequence that she knew was just one of the ways they spoke to each other. He didn’t even acknowledge her outright, just kept telling Luz whatever story he was in the middle of, but Amity could tell something passed between them.

“As much as I’d love to hear the latest exaggeration of that story, I think we may have interrupted something,” Emira interjected. 

“Oh, no, Amity was just helping me get everything organized in my room,” Luz replied, oblivious.

“Hey, putting Mittens to work,” Edric quipped, turning to his sister. “What, you don’t get enough of that at the library?” He glanced back at Luz, scuffing her hair as he pulled his arm out from around her shoulders. “Did she tell you that she took that particular obsession to a whole new level?”

“What do you mean?” Luz asked, seemingly genuinely curious. If this was how the two of them showed sympathy, Amity was seriously convinced they were a pair of sociopaths. At least, more than she usually was.

“Why don’t you tell her, Mittens?” Emira asked, drawing her back into the conversation. Luz looked towards her expectantly, Edric grinning behind her.

_ It was going to be a small casket. _

“I work at the library now,” Amity mumbled out.

“You hear that Luz, she’s got keys to the nerdiest place on the Isles,” Emira teased, “Puts them on a little Otabin keychain and everything.” 

“That’s…” Luz trailed off, a strange expression crossing her face, “awesome!”

“I-it is?” Amity asked, caught off guard.

“Well of course it is,” Luz replied, worming free of Emira’s grasp and crossing the room to take Amity’s hands in her own. Immediately,  _ awfully _ , she felt her ears flutter slightly in excitement. The smirks she got from her siblings on that one were almost enough to break through the aura of infatuation. Almost. “We have so many good memories in the library! And now you can just go in there whenever?”

“Well, not whenever. There are hours that I have to follow, just like anyone else,” Amity stated, feeling drawn into the conversation.

“Oh,” Luz began, disappointment touching her tone, “that’s a shame. The stars are so pretty through the skylights.”

“I’m sure we could figure something out,” Amity replied immediately. Somewhere behind Luz, she heard the sound of a snorting laugh quickly get cut off by a firm smack. Luz somehow remained oblivious, zeroed in as she was on her at the moment. Looking past her for a moment, she saw Emira briefly flash her a thumbs up, Edric glaring at his twin as he rubbed at a red spot on his face. Turning back to Luz, she caught the edge of a glance that reminded her exactly why she’d run downstairs in the first place.

“So,” Luz began, drawing out the last letter in a way that made Amity’s pulse race, “did you want to go find Gus and Willow then?”

_ Actually, I want to take you to the library at night and stare at you under the light of the moon and stars. _

“Sure, we might as well!” She responded instead, forcing cheeriness into her voice. If Luz picked up on the strangeness of her response, she pretended not to notice.

“You guys want to come with us?” Luz asked, turning to the twins as she did so. With a shared glance and grin, they nodded to one another, and then to her. 

“We’d love to,” Emira replied.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Edric added.

As if to punctuate their statement, the two glanced sidelong at each other, and then snapped their fingers, summoning a pair of staves from wherever their illusions had hidden them. The sound that came out of Luz’s mouth at that reveal resembled some awful mix of a banshee and King’s squeal of rage. She left Amity in the dust, crossing the room in a step-and-a-half and feverishly flipping between two languages as she gushed over the twins and their “totally, incredibly cool” staves. 

Amity took the opportunity to pull out her scroll and shoot a text to Willow, grimacing at the abrupt way she’d ended things the night before.

* * *

_ Heads up. Luz and I are inbound shortly. Hoping you’re home? _

_ Just got home _

_ Wasn’t expecting u guys until later _

_ What’s up? _

_ I need a rescue. _

_ That bad huh? _

_ Not bad, just odd… _

_ Odd how? _

* * *

Amity’s attention was distracted by familiar laughter that bubbled up from the other side of the room. Edric and Emira having apparently animated their palismans - a monkey and crow respectively - and set them loose on her. Amity wasn’t certain if the laughter was coming from joy, inability to handle the cuteness, or some combination of the two. The witch just shuddered. She knew what those creatures were capable of. How much they enabled their masters to take their pranking to an entirely new level. She felt her scroll buzz in her hands, reminding her of what she was doing before.

* * *

_ Odd how? _

_ Amity.......... _

_ Odd how?! _

_ Sorry, got distracted. _

_ My siblings dropped by. _

_ Oh _

_ My condolences _

_ They’re surprisingly not awful. _

_ At least for now. _

_ First time for everything I guess _

_ So when should I expect you? _

_ I’d give it another twenty. _

_ Make it thirty, Edric just showed Luz how he can make his palisman invisible. _

_ Sounds good _

_ Oh, Amity! _

_ You must really want my attention if you’re using a comma properly. _

_ Haha, screw you _

_ Twice, incredible. _

_ What’d you need? _

_ How’d the perfume go? _

* * *

On a very real level, Amity realized that no one else in the room could see what was on her scroll. Luz and Edric were busy trying to get an invisible monkey out from under the couch, Emira watching them and chuckling as she held a perfectly visible, also chuckling monkey behind her back. On another level, she also felt herself practically combust on the spot, sure that everyone could see right through her.

* * *

_ That good huh? _

_ Feel like I can sense you blushing from here _

_ Yes, it went well. _

_ Too well. _

_ You don’t mean… _

_ No, nothing happened! _

_ Nothing?... _

_ Be ready in thirty minutes. She’s excited to see you. _

_ Love you Am _

_ … _

_ Love you too. _

_ Thank you. _

_ Any time my friend, any time _

* * *

Amity took a moment to take in the sight of Luz, triumphant, holding nothing in her hands, but apparently convinced that she’d retrieved Edric’s palisman. Titan, was it a good view. Her staring was interrupted when Luz caught her, a sly grin crossing her face as she winked at her.

Trying to suppress the next wave of heat that crossed her face, Amity grinned back, crossing the room towards the three of them as she dismissed her scroll. “I cleared everything up with Willow, so we should be good to head over whenever.”

“Oh, yay, hold on just a second,” Luz replied, suddenly recoiling in shock from whatever she thought was in her hands. Amity flashed her brother a glare, but he was too caught up in laughing at whatever prank he’d pulled on the human to notice. 

“I can only hope you’ve suddenly realized you have an appointment elsewhere,” she asked hopefully. In response, Edric shook his head, still chuckling. “Nah Mittens,” he replied, “you’re stuck with us. At least until something better comes along.”

“Wonderful.”

“C’mon Mittens,” Emira chimed in, crossing the distance between them and leaning on her shoulder, “we never get to spend time together anymore. You’re always so busy with everyone  _ but _ us.”

“Maybe it’s a strategic choice,” Amity replied, only partially joking.

The twins locked eyes with one another, seemingly deep in conversation judging by the exaggerated looks they kept tossing at each other. After far too long of a back-and-forth, the two shook their heads. “Nope,” they said in unison.

“So are we leaving or?...” And there was Luz. Expectant, eager, and entirely unaware of the war playing out around her. She looked really good in that cloak, and she’d removed her beanie, letting her hair fall, tousled, around her shoulders. Amity wondered what it felt like to run her hands-

_ Nope. Thoughts for later. _

“Yes,” Amity stated, crossing the distance between them. Before she could second-guess herself, she grabbed Luz’s hand with her own, earning a surprised “oh” from the human before she squeezed back. The butterflies that emerged at that particular development were even enough to distract her from that  _ thing _ in the door. 

_ She could do this. Could ignore Edric and Emira’s inevitable teasing. Could hold Luz’s hand without devolving into a blushing mess. She’d done it before. _

Luz’s thumb brushed along her wrist in slow, lazy patterns. As she turned to look at her, she was hit with a smile that could melt on the snow on the Knee in an instant. Amity started sweating. She was not at all sure that she could do this, but now there wasn’t a force on the Isles that could make her let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm getting into a good pattern here. Publish a chapter, take a day off, one day of writing, edit it the next day, and then publish. We'll see if it holds up. Hope you all enjoyed! All the comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc. really just motivate me to keep doing this.


	6. Amistad

“So really, we just realized that people couldn’t tell us apart if we were disguised as one another. I’m honestly not sure if I’m really Edric anymore.”

“Well, I know for a fact that I’m me,” Emira interjected, laughing, “so if you’re actually someone else, I have no clue who that might be.”

“Yeah, but how can you be sure?” He asked in turn, earning a chuckle from Luz as well. She was fairly certain that she was talking to Ed, but there really was no telling. The things they were able to do with illusions, well, she thought they were incredible, but she was equally glad that they weren’t her siblings.

“Simple,” his sister replied, turning from where she has been walking a few steps ahead of them, but continuing to move along the path. “Viney and I went out to dinner a few days ago, and she actually laughed at all of my jokes.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I doubt you could navigate a conversation with a woman if I wrote each instruction, by hand, and had Mittens draw a diagram to go with it,” she replied, smirking. 

“For your information, I’m perfectly capable of speaking to women.” As if to prove his point, he gestured to Luz and Amity. They’d been walking alongside the twins for the better part of ten minutes, listening to what Luz was realizing was likely just an extension of an unsettled argument between the two of them. Honestly, she welcomed the distraction. It certainly drew her mind away from, say, the fact that Amity’s hand was still firmly clasped in her own.

“Oh wow, you can talk to your sister and her clearly unavailable friend who’s two years younger than you.” Emira feigned admiration, bringing a hand to her chest. “Truly, your skills of elocution astound me more each day.”

“You’re hardly better,” Edric jibed, turning to Amity. “Remind me Mittens, what was the first thing our darling sister said to her future girlfriend?”

Luz watched as a smile crossed the witch’s face, at the same time noticing how the same expression bled from her sisters’, replaced instead by a slowly dawning sense of dread. Frantically, her eyes darted between her brother and sister, before finally shifting to firmly fix on the ground.

“I think,” Amity began, pitching her voice into a perfect imitation of her sister, though oddly breathless, “it went something like ‘Titan, you seem _really_ strong. Like, the way you just pushed that griffin into its pen. Do you think you could show _me_ how to do that sometime?’”

Edric seemed about to double over from laughing, struggling for breath as he chimed in. “And then, and then she just, tried to lean against the fence, and the griffin bit her hand!”

“Hey, griffin bites hurt!” Emira protested.

At that, Amity burst out laughing as well. The sound high and clear. Luz felt her heart skip a beat as she did so, and rather than join in on the laughter, she felt heat race across her cheeks. She still hadn’t let go of her hand, if anything squeezing tighter, and that combined with the look on her face made her mind go certain… places. 

“But that wasn’t the end of it,” Amity said, snapping Luz out of  _ those  _ thoughts. She turned to Luz, expectant. She realized that the witch was waiting for her to chime in. She wasn’t there though, so what was she thinking?... Oh, wait.

“But Viney’s a healing witch too?” She replied, curious. Luz could tell by the look on her face that she’d guessed right. Well, that and the fact that Edric was laughing so hard at this point that he was dangerously close to falling over. Emira, for her part, had turned around and was pointedly ignoring them.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Edric pushed himself up and caught her gaze. “Right you are, my human friend. Now, confronted with a witch having harmed herself by getting too close to a wild animal, what do you think dear Viney’s first reaction was?” He flashed her with that same expectant expression, and Luz was suddenly caught by the similarities between Amity and her brother. Sure, he and Emira were twins, but he had the same faint golden-brown eyes, the same brown roots peeking out from under his green hair as Amity, though far less pronounced. 

Drawing herself back to the conversation, Luz feigned concentration. As if the issue at hand required any thought. “I suppose,” she began, smirking, “that she would need to grab Emira’s hands to heal her.”

“You know, you would think that,” Amity quipped, squeezing her hand as she did so. Edric burst into another fit of laughter. The witch raised her voice as she looked towards her sister, now a solid ten steps ahead of them. “What’d she do instead Em?”

In response, Luz could faintly make out a half-muttered reply coming from the beleaguered twin’s general direction.

“What was that, dear sister?” Edric called.

“We couldn’t quite hear you!” Amity added. Luz loved seeing her like this. So happy and full of life. It was a far cry from the sobbing, shaking girl that she’d held in her room not so long ago. Mournfully, she wondered if the witch had always been hiding that sorrow just under the surface. She knew from personal experience that you didn’t get to that point over even a couple years. There was a lot more there.

_ God, she was getting distracted a lot today. She’d taken her meds, right? _

“I said,” Emira huffed, drawing her back, “that she practically threw me to the ground!”

“And why was that?” Edric pushed.

“Because I tried to lean on the fence with my other, non-bitten hand!” Emira replied, manic, before bursting into laughter herself. “And then, as she was pulling me up and healing me, berating me for getting so close to a griffin, all I could say was…” At that, she trailed off, Luz realizing at the last moment that she had actually paused for dramatic effect before all three of the Blight siblings shouted together;

“Guess I need a big, strong girl like you to save me from myself!”

“I was mortified,” Emira moaned, blushing at just the thought of it.

“It was the best day of my life,” Edric sighed dreamily.

“Viney looked at her with such an expression of disbelief and disgust that I felt bad for her,” Amity whispered conspiratorially, causing chills to run across Luz’s neck.

“So I suppose,” Emira conceded, “that in this one, very specific instance, you may have a point. But that still doesn’t change the fact that you’re just as bad as me.”

“Hey, I get along with Viney,” Edric replied. “I’m sure I could pull off being you for a night.”

“Nope.”

“Oh, you’re so sure?”

“Yep.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because there are things that would definitely clue Viney in as to the truth,” Emira replied, a wicked smile crossing her face.

“Like what?” Edric replied, oblivious. Emira just stared back at him, meeting his gaze, head cocked slightly to the side. Luz slowly felt a blush crawl across her cheeks as she made the realization. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, she couldn’t help but flash a look at Amity, who’d gone a shade of deep, burning red.

Edric looked between the three of them, realization dawning on his own features. “Oh, Titan, Em, that’s gross.”

“It’s perfectly natural Ed,” Emira replied, clearly reveling in his discomfort, “and common.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ed asked, a faint sense of dread in his voice.

“I’m just saying,” Emira began, the same grin still fixed on her features, “you wouldn’t get through the first hour of a date with Viney pretending to be me, because those typically only go one direction.”

“Ah, no, that’s so wrong Em,” Ed whined, blushing to join the rest of them. “We live together!”

“Your point?”

“So when Viney comes over before you guys go out for the night?...”

“Yep.”

“Let’s change the subject!” Amity interjected, earning Luz’s neverending gratitude. 

That, unfortunately, attracted the attention of both twins, and, try though she might, Luz couldn’t shake the immediate feeling that she was being hunted. It didn’t help that they looked so similar to Amity. And, well, they weren’t exactly bad-looking…

She became conscious of the fact that she was still holding Amity’s hand at the exact moment the witch seemed to come to the same realization. They quickly pulled their hands away from one another. Luz did her best to ignore the pang in her heart at that one.

“You know Mittens...” Emira began, only to be interrupted by a faint musical tone. Curious, she traced a faint circle with her finger, her scroll apparating into her other hand. Looking down at it, her smile faded into a faint frown, her brows furrowing. Quickly, almost imperceptibly, she flashed a glance to her twin. The sort of thing Luz would have never noticed if she hadn’t already been watching her face for any semblance of mercy. 

She opened her mouth to ask if something was wrong before realizing that they’d come to a stop. They were still about ten minutes outside of town, but they’d started seeing houses scattered here and there. Off to their right, she could see a familiar house, quaint but cheery, and positively overflowing with carefully cultivated plant life in an almost overwhelming array of colors. She remembered days spent in the yards and the woods around, helping a young bespectacled witch pull all the knowledge she could from the world around them. As if casting a spell, her thoughts seemed to produce the same witch ahead of her.

~---~

Standing in the doorway, one foot on the porch, was a young witch with hair cut short, a bit choppy, but styled. Her eyes seemed magnified by a pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses, giving her a perpetual look of wonderment. She was wearing a green jacket over a faded grey flannel against the chill, the former’s collar high but folded down and - Luz could faintly make out - embroidered at the edges, though she couldn’t make out the pattern. As the witch slowly stepped off of the porch, Luz made to run towards her, briefly glancing towards the Blights, who seemed absorbed in some kind of quiet argument. Amity sensed her eyes on her, turning and flashing her a faint, exasperated smile before mouthing the words “ _ go on _ .”

That was all the permission Luz needed to break into a sprint towards her best friend. Willow, seemingly surprised at the sudden burst of speed, broke into a wide smile the moment before Luz crashed into her. The two of them wobbled slightly, chuckling as they tried to regain their balance, before Willow gestured and summoned a few vines to root them in place. Ignoring the apparent lack of a circle, Luz took advantage of the stable position to wrap the witch in the tightest hug she could muster. 

Willow met her back in force, the ever-surprising amount of strength catching her off guard. Out of all of her friends, Willow gave the absolute best hugs. Always tight, but never bone-crushing.

“Hey Wills,” Luz whispered, surprised at the way her voice caught at the familiar nickname.

“Hey yourself, stranger,” Willow replied, continuing the hug. “Long time, no see.”

The witch squeezed her one last time before drawing back. She gave her a once-over, giving Luz the distinctive impression of being some sort of familiar plant that the young botanist was examining for missing leaves or bent stems. After a long moment, Willow nodded, a firm thing that seemed to suggest she was satisfied with what she saw.

“You look good Luz,” she finally said, breaking the silence between them. “Doesn’t look like you kept to that workout routine though.”

Luz laughed at that, glancing off to the side. She would’ve rubbed her neck, most likely, were it not for the fact that Willow still had a vice grip on her arms. “Yeah, well not all of us are as committed as you on that one.”

“Please,” Willow said, releasing Luz’s arms so that she could hold her arms up, “this is just from all the bags and pots I lug around.” Luz was fairly certain that lifting pots and bags didn’t give you the sort of build that someone could see through a  _ jacket _ , but hey, what did she know? Once a nerd, always a nerd.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” she said instead. “Bit taller though, actually.”

Willow shrugged at that one, glancing down at her feet before looking back up at her. There had always been that faint bit of mischief in her eyes, hidden under that shy exterior, but Luz was surprised to see a hard edge of something else in her eyes. Confidence, probably. No, that wasn’t it. More like self-assurance. When she’d left, walking through that portal two years ago, she’d gotten a brief glance of a Willow in her prime, slinging magic and holding back witches ten years her senior like it was easy. It was that same witch that stood in front of her. Calm and assured, sure, but still her usual, reserved self. Luz wondered for a moment if she looked half as put-together as her friend.

“Well, I did end up having to learn how to sew my own clothes,” Willow replied, grinning shyly, “Otherwise, my dads said they were going to put me out in the yard with the rest of the weeds.”

“Nah, you’re not a weed,” Luz quipped, searching her mind for a better term, “more like… bamboo.”

“Bamboo?”

“You don’t have bamboo here?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Willow responded, stone-faced.

“Oh, so you’re telling me that you have plants that talk and others that pretend to be houses but you don’t have bamboo?” 

“Never heard of it.”

“You’re messing with me.”

“Amity scramble your brains or something?” Willow asked, chuckling. When Luz’s response was to blush instead of saying something, she swore she saw something flash in her eyes. 

_ Not Willow too! _

“Hey Blight!” Willow suddenly shouted, making Luz jump, her blush deepening. In response, all three of the Blights turned to look at her, drawn out of their conversation. She noticed that each of them had some variation of an aggravated expression on their face, though it immediately dropped once they looked towards the plant witch. Was she missing something?

“No, not you two,” she continued, earning a chuckle from the twins. “I’m talking to you Amity! You not even going to come over and say hi?”

“We’ve actually got to take Mittens off of your hands, much to our dismay,” Edric responded, cutting off Amity’s response.

“Yeah,” Emira chimed in, leaning in so that her chin would rest on Amity’s head, “she’s urgently needed by our fearless leader.”

“But of course, we’re going to let her say goodbye,” Edric finished, joining his twin in leaning on their younger sister. Blushing furiously, Amity traced a circle with her finger, the distinct purple hue of her magic crackling with power. As her siblings chuckled nervously, the ground itself rumbled. Two enormous arms composed of dripping sludge ripped their way free of the earth. Emira never even got a chance to run, the first arm lifting her a good ten feet in the air. Edric, seemingly expecting retaliation, got a few feet away before he tripped on a root Luz swore hadn’t been there a moment ago. The second arm grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him into the air alongside his sister.

Both of them stared down at Amity, nervous laughter fading off once they took in the set of her shoulders. Though she’d turned to face them, Luz could see the tension writ into her form. They’d struck a nerve, alright. 

It was less of a conscious choice and more of an impulse, just on the edge of her mind, that she couldn’t possibly ignore. Leaving Willow, she crossed the yard, laughing quietly as Amity laid into her siblings.

“-ot everything has to be a joke! Honestly, it’s a wonder that you haven’t gotten yourselves killed, screwing around the way you do! And another thing…” Amity trailed off as Luz placed a hand on her shoulder. Energy crackled across her fingertips, lingering sparks of magic that conducted along her arm and left odd tingling sensations where they crossed her skin. Not painful, not unpleasant, just strange. She suddenly felt struck by a surge of emotions - anxiety, embarrassment, anger - that were not her own.

_ That was new. _

“I don’t think Willow’s parents are looking for that kind of fertilizer,  _ brujita _ ,” she joked, surprising herself with the way the nickname she’d had for Amity, the one she’d never dare say out loud, slipped past her lips. Amity’s head snapped to face her, apparently unaware that she’d been there. She smiled ruefully. 

“Yeah, I suppose,” she conceded, pink faintly touching her cheeks.

“They are really cool though,” Luz said, grinning, “the arms, I mean.” She earned a genuine smile at that one. Even managed to keep it from taking her breath away. Mostly.

Amity shrugged, turning away to glance at her siblings. They looked back at her, hopeful smiles on their faces. Edric flashed her a thumbs up. Sighing loudly, Amity traced another circle, letting the arms slowly dissolve and rejoin the ground. Once they were only three or four feet up, she dismissed the spell entirely, letting them fall the rest of the way.

“You’re lucky Luz was here to save you,” Amity began, only somewhat teasingly, “otherwise, I would have just left you up there. I’m sure Willow could use a pair of scarecrows.”

Emira feigned shock, pressing a hand to her chest. “Dear sister,” she quipped, “you would leave your only two siblings exposed to the elements, burned by acid and picked to pieces by the crows?”

Amity looked them over, face as unyielding as stone. 

“Without question,” she finally stated.

“Fair enough,” Edric replied. Silence reigned over the three of them for a few moments, and Luz was once again struck by uncertainty. Were they joking or?...

All three broke out into laughter, the twins springing up from the ground and ruffling Amity’s hair in turn. She let them, much to Luz’s surprise, and she realized something that her younger self had never quite considered.

_ The Blight siblings probably weren’t all there. _

“Regardless,” Emira continued, pulling Luz out of her realization, “we  _ were  _ serious when we said we had to take Mittens off of your hands for a little bit.”

“But,” Edric chimed in, “we will bring her back in one piece for you.” He wrapped an arm around his younger sister’s shoulder, earning only half-hearted resistance. “Assuming we don’t break out into any life or death duels on the way over.”

“Please do,” Luz replied, “I’m a big fan of the idea of keeping her in one piece.” She took a moment to gauge the pros and cons of the next thought that crossed her mind, choosing to throw caution to the wind. After that little transfer of power, well, what she had in mind seemed  _ far _ less intimate. 

She happened to glance at Emira, noticed the way that she tapped her brother’s shoulder lightly, and he unwrapped his arm from around Amity’s shoulders, stepping off to the side and summoning his scroll, though Luz hadn’t heard it beep. Emira pointedly walked a few feet away, mumbling something about asking Willow a question. She wondered for a moment if the twins _did_ have some kind of telepathy. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she’d seen on the Isles…

“So…” 

_ Right, Amity. _

“So?” Luz replied questioningly. She even used her best “questioningly” face. The one with the raised eyebrow and the faint smirk. That earned a chuckle from Amity, tinged as it was by nervousness.

“I suppose,” Amity began again, “that I’ll see you tomorrow?” The way she said it, the way she stretched the syllable at the end, clued Luz in to the reluctance that undercut it. The same sort of reluctance that pierced her heart the moment the words left her lips.

“Or...” Luz replied, trailing off as she reached out to take one of the witch’s hands in her own. Why couldn’t she help but want to touch her, feel her presence somehow? Well, she knew why, but she should be better at controlling herself. Granted, that’d never been her strong suit, but she’d gotten better. Except, it seems, when it came to Amity. Figures.

“Or?...” the witch asked her, clearly confused by her cutting off. Luz snapped to, grounding herself in the moment, and doing her best to fix her face with a faint smirk. Judging by the red that spread across Amity’s cheeks, she may have overdone it a bit.

“Or you could come by later? I know Eda was planning on making dinner for whoever ‘wandered in,’ so I’m sure you’d be welcome.” Luz looked up from where she’d been staring at their hands, finding an unreadable expression on the witch’s face. “Of course, if you don’t wan-”

“No!” Amity shouted, making Luz jump. She nervously ran a hand through her hair, green locks parting before her fingers, hinting at the brown roots contained within.

_ Focus, Noceda. _

“I would love to come over later,” Amity squeezed out. “To see everyone, I mean!”

“Oh, of course,” Luz replied, far too quickly.

“You know, because we already spent most of the day together.”

“Definitely.”

“Which was nice!”

“For sure!”

“But, you have other friends and I don’t want to take up all their time with you.”

“Makes sense. Makes sense. Good, solid point.”

_ You’re floundering, Luz. _

“Little witch!” Luz shouted, smacking herself internally as she did so. Edric pointedly looked over at her from where he had, presumably, been taking a call. He flashed her a brief smile, only mostly mocking, and a thumbs up, before returning to it.

“What?” Amity asked, bewildered. Luz barked out a nervous laugh, hating the way it sounded.

“Little witch. What I called you earlier. Uhm,” Luz trailed off, searching for the words. “ _ Brujita _ , it means ‘little witch.’ Or, it’s pretty close I guess. Not a perfect translation. There’s more to it but...” She dared herself to look at Amity’s face at that point, finding herself met with a solid wall of pink. “It’s uh, what I call you in my head sometimes.”

_ Why was she nervous now? Why was she telling her this? She’d been fine earlier. Granted, then everything had happened, but… _

“I suppose the best way to get the point across would be ‘ _ my _ little witch,’ come to think of it,” she found herself saying. Pink flushed to red as Amity took  _ that one _ in. Luz thought she might combust, but instead, the witch took a moment, as if collecting herself, before she spoke. They’d always had that in common.

“It’s a good nickname then,” Amity replied, blush slowly fading. “Accurate, at the very least.” The last part was mumbled, almost inaudible, but Luz heard it. And then Amity realized that she had heard it.

The red seemed to leave the witch’s cheeks in front of her and flow directly into her own. The two of them likely would have stood there for an eternity, alternating in their embarrassment, unless something broke the spell. That something happened to be Emira, reentering their conversation and quite literally dragging her younger sister out of Luz’s line of sight.

“Sorry, cuties, but we’ve got to break this up. Duty calls and all that.” As she went, Edric vanished his scroll, not even bothering to keep up the illusion that he’d been talking to someone on it in the first place. She watched the three of them vanish up the path, Amity waving as they went. She tossed back a wave of her own, caught up by the suddenness of their departure, until finally they melded into the landscape and were gone.

~---~

After a few minutes of staring at the last point she’d seen Amity, Luz realized that someone was standing next to her. She turned to face Willow, taking stock of the faint, knowing smile that marked her features. “What are you grinning at?” she asked halfheartedly, though she already knew the answer. In response, Willow just shook her head, that same smile no longer faint, but pronounced, almost mocking. Never cruelly, Willow was never cruel, but intense in the knowledge it seemed to hold.

“You’ve got it bad,” she finally said, and Luz felt herself deflate. There was no point trying to deny it, not to Willow.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I’ve got it bad.”

Willow nodded at the admission as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Luz hadn’t agonized over that particular knot of feelings over the last two years. Well, she supposed that  _ Willow  _ hadn’t, but still.

“You’re still thinking about her now, aren’t you,” Willow asked knowingly.

“No!” Luz responded immediately. Willow fixed her with a stare, and she flagged. “Maybe, yeah.” The stare continued. “Yes!” she finally shouted, groaning into her hands. “Yes, I’m thinking about her, I keep thinking about her, I can’t stop thinking about her!”

“It’s a lot to think about, isn’t it?” Luz looked up at Willow, noticing the faintly distant look on her face. There was something else to her tone, besides understanding. Familiarity, hurt even? 

“You alright Wills?” she asked, causing the witch to look at her in surprise. She fumbled a bit with her hands, messing with a bracelet that Luz hadn’t noticed before. It almost looked like it was woven from plants, but there was a metallic sheen to it as well. She’d never seen it before. Willow certainly hadn’t mentioned it in any of her letters.

“I just,” Willow began, snapping her attention back to the witch. “I know what it’s like, to have that knot of confused feelings just built up inside of you. You wonder if, maybe, you’re the only one that has difficulty with those sorts of things. Sure, everyone else gets nervous, has problems here and there, but they seem happy about it. And you just…” She trailed off, blushing slightly as she seemed to realize how much of a tangent she’d gone on.

“Feel like you don’t even know that step to take first,” Luz finished, meeting her friend’s eyes. Willow nodded. Were those  _ tears _ forming at the corners of her eyes? “Wills,” Luz said, grabbing the witch’s arms and forcing her to look in her eyes, “what’s up?”

“Honestly,” Willow replied, “nothing really. I’m just thinking about the past. You remember that guy I told you about, Maxwell?”

“The one you dated for a month before realizing that you weren’t actually  _ that  _ into him?” Luz asked, grimacing at the wince that earned from her friend.

“Yeah, him,” Willow responded, thoughts seeming to drift away. She held the bracelet up so that Luz could get a better look at it. There was a bit of clunkiness to it, but the details were incredible. Like he’d woven leaves together and dipped them in bronze. “He made this for me, a couple weeks after we got together. That’s when I realized, I guess, that he was more of a friend to me.” 

“We’re  _ still _ friends, actually,” she added, surprising Luz. “He messages me every once in a while, and we’ll have a conversation about what he’s doing, where he’s been. He graduated last year, so he’s just been wandering around the Isles, categorizing all the different kinds of metal you can pull out of the ground.”

“That sounds interesting,” Luz chimed in, but Willow just shook her head. “No,” the witch replied, “it’s actually terribly boring. I spent all that time with him, listening to him talk, knowing that it was boring, but really just wanting to be by him. I thought, at first, that it was because I felt a certain way for him, and I was partially right. It just wasn’t a romantic feeling, y’know. I’m not sure...” Willow hesitated as if lost in thought about what she wanted to say next. Luz fixed her with a smile, squeezed her arm lightly, and that seemed to galvanize the witch.

“I’m not sure if I’m built for that at all,” she whispered, voice thin. 

“Oh, Willow,” Luz replied, pulling her friend into a hug. She desperately hoped that another of her close friends wasn’t going to break down in her arms, so when she felt the rhythmic motion of the witch in her arms, she felt dread slip into her gut. Then she heard the noises that accompanied it.

_ Willow was laughing. _

Bewildered, Luz held her friend out in front of her. Willow  _ was  _ laughing, but a single tear ran down her cheek. “Look at me,” the witch said, “opening up to you the moment we’re alone. Isles, I’m such a mess.”

“Willow,” Luz chastised, making her voice firm “you’re not a mess.” Collecting her thoughts, she pushed on. “It’s totally possible you just haven’t found the right person yet, or,” she added, seeing the disbelief that crossed the witch’s features, “you might be right. Maybe you’re just not cut out for that sort of thing. That doesn’t mean you aren’t Willow. Certainly doesn’t mean you aren’t my friend, or Amity’s, or Gus’, or apparently Maxwell’s.”

“I usually just call him Max.”

“Good, because that’s a mouthful.”

“It’s two syllables, Luz,” the witch chided.

“In an ideal world, no name would be more than one syllable.”

“What about Amity?”

“A notable exception.”

Willow laughed at that one, but not like she had a moment ago. This one was warm and cheery where the last was pale and thin. It was good to hear that out of her. That other Willow, the shaky, unconfident one, that just wasn’t her.

“I’m really glad you’re back, Luz,” Willow said, bouncing on her heels. Luz felt some sympathy for the need to get rid of all the nervous energy. “Things just weren’t the same here without you.”

“Well now I’m back, for good.”

“Any way I can convince you to come back to Hexside? I could use your advice when I get like this.” Willow asked, hopefully, though she already knew the answer.

“Nah, I think I’ve had enough of school for a lifetime,” Luz replied, shuddering at the thought of ever having to study for another test. “But,” she added, “if you  _ ever _ need to talk to me, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Luz. Really.” She smiled, though sighing as she did so. “It was worth a shot, I guess,” she added as if it were an afterthought. She stared towards the road, seemingly lost in concentration before realization suddenly darted across her face. “Crap,” she shouted, surprising Luz, “we’re super, super late to meet Gus!” 

“Well, I didn’t know he was waiting!” Luz replied, laughing. She caught up to Willow as the witch jogged over to the gates, watching closely. Sure enough, as she reached them, the vines that grew over the hinges flexed slightly, opening it a moment before she darted through. Bingo.

“How are you doing that without tracing a circle?” She asked excitedly, keeping pace with the jogging botanist, only slightly breathless.

“The vines?” Willow asked, not even having the decency to be a  _ little _ winded.

“Yeah, duh,” Luz replied.

“I grew those vines with my magic, most of the plants actually,” Willow replied, not noticing, or at the very least not caring about, the faint tease in Luz’s voice, “they’re attuned to me. So when I bid them to come, they do as I say.” She flashed a smile at that one - a fierce one. All teeth and pride.

“Why does everyone get lair actions but me?” Luz complained, earning another laugh out of her friend.

“I’d tell you to stop making references that no one else understands, but that’s never stopped you before.”

“Eda understands my references.”

“The Owl Lady is a known appreciator of human culture and traditions,” Willow said, speaking in a tone that seemed to suggest she’d heard it elsewhere.

“That sounded like a title, almost,” Luz replied, curious.

“Her defense, actually. Lilith put her on trial a few months after you left.”

“She what?!” Luz asked, almost coming to a stop. Willow, of course, kept jogging, so she had to go double-time to catch up. Was she really not even breathing hard? Not even a little?

“Yeah, she thought it would be a good way to show people the right way to do things. Eda wasn’t the only one she put on trial, but she was certainly the main event.”

“She must have loved that.”

“Oh yeah, she made a whole production out of it. Tried to get me and Gus to sell tickets to some illegal showings, but Lilith put a stop to that.” Willow chuckled at the thought, clearly reliving some happy memories. Luz felt another pang in her heart. She’d spent the few months after returning to the Human Realm desperately trying to catch up on her schoolwork. 

“Of course,” Willow continued, “Eda ended up receiving a full pardon. Lilith even installed her as ‘Minister of Human Affairs.’ That lasted about a week until people realized she was using her authority to put what little competition her stall had out of business.”

It was Luz’s turn to laugh at that one. _That_ sounded a lot more like Eda.

“So what happened then?” Luz asked between huffs. There was no way Willow wasn’t feeling it at this point. She had to be a bit tired. Right?

“Well honestly it seems like everyone was expecting it,” Willow replied. She wasn’t even breathing hard. What kind of workouts did she do? “Lilith removed her from the position, Eda made a big deal out of it. I think there was a bounty or something…” Willow trailed off, trying to remember. Instead, she shrugged. “But the peacekeepers were busy with bigger problems, so nothing really came of it. In a lot of ways, things went back to normal. I know the twins spend a lot of time with her though.”

“Lilith?” Luz asked, incredulous. She couldn’t imagine the twins, with all of their jokes and lack of any respect for authority meshed with  _ her. _

“No, Eda,” Willow corrected. “None of them mentioned that to you?”

“No, not that I can remember. Though we didn’t really talk about that sort of stuff, so maybe it just didn’t come up?”

“It’s possible,” Willow conceded. “None of them seem to talk about it very much either. Almost like they’re not supposed to.”

“Weird,” Luz replied simply, though her thoughts were racing. Eda and the twins working together, well, that was a scary thought. Unless…

“Pushing Eda out of office so publicly after putting her in one, that sends a message, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Willow asked, finally starting to puff a bit as she jogged. Luz took note of that on a surface level, but she was more focused on the thoughts that were slowly unfolding in her mind.

“Well, from what I heard, the Isles were pretty unstable after everything went down. Lots of people trying to find power and use it?” Seeing Willow nod in agreement, Luz continued. “So if I was trying to put things back in order, and I wanted to be able to know what was going on beneath the surface, wouldn’t I want someone down there that I could trust? Someone who had proved, pretty spectacularly, that she wasn’t keen on playing by the rules either?”

Understanding slowly dawned on Willow’s features. “That’s actually a really good point. Though, how do the twins fit into all of that?” Luz thought for a moment, but no other great realizations were forthcoming. “Message runners, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Willow replied, though Luz could tell the witch believed it about as much as she did. “Or maybe Eda’s teaching them to do the same thing?”

Luz turned that over in her head, pushing down the silly part of her that immediately felt jealous at the idea of Eda teaching other witches. She knew where she would stand in relation to any of them. Did she? She had been gone for a long time…

_ Best to store that away for later, Luz. _

Instead, she lost herself in the steady pace they’d set. The two jogged in silence the rest of the way, that comfortable sort of silence that held only familiarity, contentment, rather than awkwardness. It was nice, the way they could just  _ be _ around one another without having to talk or do something other than eat up the distance in front of them. Luz focused on keeping her breathing regular, on matching Willow’s pace. Concerns and doubts could wait for later. Right now, she was more than willing to lose herself in the effort.

~---~

Woods gave way to scattered homes and yards, before finally giving themselves over entirely to the urban sprawl of Bonesborough. The town was familiar to her in all its mind-bending, otherworldly glory, but there were also bits here and there that were new to her. There seemed to be more homes maybe, or perhaps a greater variety of homes. The town seemed to be growing, and she supposed that was a good thing, but she couldn’t help the pang of sadness that crossed her heart. Of course, the Isles would move on without her, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

She slowed to a stop beside Willow, who seemed to be doing far better than she was at the moment. Resting her hands on her knees, Luz did her best to even out her breathing, eventually looking up at the sound of footsteps moving towards them.

The witch approaching them was tall, way taller than he’d been before. He wore a black robe, carefully trimmed and stopping just below his knees. Luz could see a blue shirt peeking out from under his collar, a short thing curiously pinned with little charms and trinkets. Grey stripe-clad legs pumped towards them, each stride crossing the distance faster than the one before. His face (God, was that a  _ beard _ ?) split into a wide smile as his suspicions were confirmed. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. No, that distinction belonged to the long length of pale blue wood in his left hand, capped by a confusing mess of etched tentacles that looked like some sort of octopus.

Luz held up a finger to stop him, barely able to get out a “you might want to stop, I’m sweaty,” before he wrapped her in a hug. Then he  _ picked her up _ . Alright, that was enough. Message received, Isles.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Luz shouted, earning a look of surprise from both of them. “I’m gone for two years, and Willow can run a marathon, you’re some kind of a giant now, and you’ve got a staff!”

Gus laughed, setting her down as he did so, and tossed his staff from one hand to the other. “It’s good to see you too, Luz.” God, of course his voice would be that much deeper. She realized, more and more, just how off-guard everything was going to find her. There was only so much you could convey in a letter. Apparently receiving your staff three years early was one of those things. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she said instead, wrapping Gus in a hug of her own. “It’s good to see you too. But,” she continued, pulling away, “you know you’re going to have to give me an explanation for all of this.”

“Well,” Willow interjected, “the height is all him. Well, his dad I suppose. How tall did you say you were now?”

“Eighteen pelts,” He supplied, then, noticing Luz’s confusion, seemed to run a quick calculation in his head, “about six-foot-two, roughly.”

“As for the staff,” Willow continued adopting an impression that  _ could have  _ been a very rough approximation of Principal Bump, “that’s because ‘Augustus Porter is a model student and a prodigy, an example of what hard work and natural talent can achieve if one is willing to do everything in their power to succeed.’”

Gus rubbed his neck at that one, and Luz’s vision suddenly cleared, seeing the clear reminder of the short, excitable kid she’d known before. He was still in there, even if he was stretched out a bit. Still, the staff.

“Still, the staff,” she repeated, out loud this time. “Does everyone but me have a staff now?” Both of the witches laughed at that one.

“Well, I don’t have a staff yet, Luz,” Willow replied, the hint of a challenge in her eyes.

“I guess not,” Luz conceded.

“And neither does Amity, much to her chagrin,” she continued.

“Alright, I get the point,” Luz replied. “Still, you’ve got to show me what that thing can do.”

“All will be made clear in time my friend,” Gus replied, “but first, I’ve got a surprise to show you.”

“You’re already going to show her?” Willow asked, incredulous.

“You know I’m not good at keeping secrets,” he stated.

“Fair enough, fair enough.”

“Ooh,” Luz said, practically jumping in place, “what kind of surprise?”

“I think you’re going to find,” Gus said, pausing for dramatic effect, “that it’s one of the most incredible artifacts I’ve ever recovered!” He followed his exclamation with a dramatic point towards the sky. Luz followed where he was pointing, confused.

“Is it in the air or?...” She finally asked, causing him to deflate visibly. 

“No, it’s actually at my house,” he mumbled.

“We should probably go then,” she replied encouragingly, smiling at the way the light immediately flashed back into his eyes. “This sounds pretty exciting.”

“Onwards then!” Gus shouted, immediately breaking into a jog. Luz felt her knees protest just at the idea of running anymore, but his long legs put him a good distance ahead of them in just a few strides. Groaning and cursing under her breath, she made to follow him, only for Willow to gesture with a hand, drawing a circle this time. Vines immediately lashed out from where they were growing against a nearby building and tangled Gus’ chest, trapping him in place.

“Maybe we could walk instead, take some time to catch up?” she called ahead, earning a thumbs-up from the entangled witch. Grinning, she turned to Luz, and she favored the botanist with a smile. 

“Thanks, Willow.”

“No worries, you know how he gets.”

“Why is he so tall?” Luz asked, now that he was a good distance away.

“Growth hormones. I’ve been working them into just about everything he eats over the last two years.”

“What? Really?” Luz exclaimed exactly a moment before she realized the ridiculousness of the idea. In response, Willow just walked over and placed a hand on Luz’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything, just set her hand there and looked Luz in the eye. That was worse than anything she could have said. The witch let her stew in it a minute before tapping her on the shoulder twice and gesturing towards their bound friend. Grinning despite herself, Luz nodded, and the two of them made their way towards Gus.

Seeing her friends laugh at one another as one untangled the other, Luz felt a sudden burst of emotion creep up from her chest. Her vision blurred at the edges, and she brushed at eyes with the corner of her sleeve. Thankfully, Gus and Willow seemed distracted by one another, the former actually congratulating the latter on how accurate her vines were getting. Not that she would have minded much if they had seen them. She was happy, mind-numbingly so, and that was the kind of thing you shared with your friends, no matter how long you’d been apart. 

_ It was so good to be home. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, so this one was a doozy. Longest one yet. I kept trying to find different ways to cut it up, but nothing felt right, so I suppose you all get a double-length chapter this time around. Hope you're all still enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it! Expect more activity over the next week, as I've finally got a break and I intend to use it to get ahead on things, this included.


	7. Vivisection

Three witches sat at one of a dozen small tables scattered around an overgrown patio on the bayward side of town. Hanging over their heads, chipped at the edges, was a round wooden sign declaring the building attached to the patio to be the Glass Cauldron. Most of the time, the cafe was a haven for students seeking a borderline criminal dose of caffeine to get them through the day. To Amity, it felt more like the site of her autopsy, though you’d never know it from looking at her coroners.

Edric was in the process of teaching Astus to balance little wooden cups on top of one another. The monkey-like creature did its best, but at the end of the day, palismans reflect their owners, meaning he allowed the witch to stack, at most, three or four of the cups before he’d knock them down, chattering and looking for praise. Edric glanced at her each time he did. Was he waiting for some kind of reaction?

_ Probably.  _

She sighed at the thought. Emira, to her credit, was not attempting to inconspicuously cheer Amity up. Absorbed in her scroll as she was (undoubtedly texting a certain beastmaster), she still managed to glance over the rim of her cup at Amity every time she sipped at her tea. Amity’s had long since gone cold.

Sharing a glance and a sigh, the twins dropped all pretense of distraction as they both focused their attention on their sister. Amity flagged under the combined force of their stare but met their gaze regardless. 

“Alright Mittens,” Edric began, sighing as he sat back in his seat, “spill.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Amity countered, refusing to look away. Maybe if she was firm enough, they’d go back to their distractions. Maybe she wouldn’t have to talk about that. She was fairly certain the whole “Lilith needs you” angle was made up, but there was no telling as far as her siblings were concerned.

“Amity,” Emira chimed in, shocking the witch out of her thoughts. She could hardly remember the last time her sister had actually used her name. “Something is obviously bothering you.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied. Too quickly. She cringed internally as they shared another glance, another flash of meaning between them.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Emira prompted. Amity felt taken aback as she registered actual sympathy on her sister’s features. Mulling things over, she had been surprisingly supportive up until now…

“It wasn’t the right language,” she said quickly, desperate to get the words out before she could lose her nerve.

“What?” Edric asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“That ‘Latin’ nonsense. She doesn’t speak a word of it.” Amity drew in a breath, trying to dismiss the tremors that had started in her hands. “She had no idea what I was saying. All that work, all that practice, useless.” Her eyes flicked to the table, battle lost against her siblings’ shocked faces. “Apparently no one in her world’s actually spoken it in over a thousand years.”

Silence reigned over the three of them. Claws clicked on the table as Astus wandered over to Amity’s side of the table. He placed a single paw on her hand, and she grinned at the little creature. Taking a breath to still herself, the youngest Blight tilted her gaze back towards her siblings.

Still stunned. Edric with the faintest hint of a smile. Emira with a hand over her mouth. It was probably better to get this over with.

“If you’re going to make fun of me,” Amity began, feeling heat rush to her face, “could you at least get on with it?”

“Oh Mittens,” Edric replied, humor bleeding into his voice, “you really did it this time.”

“Did what, exactly?” she responded, vitriol touching her own.

“You got yourself so bad that we could never compete.” Edric shook his head, grin widening. “I’m honestly more impressed than anything, but I can’t help but shake the feeling that I’m officially out of a job.”

“Edric!” Emira growled, attracting attention from a nearby table. She jabbed a finger into their brother’s ribs, lowering her voice as she continued. “What is wrong with you?”

“What? You know it’s true.”

“That’s not the point.”

“When’s that ever stopped us before?”

In response, Emira glared at him. The kind of piercing stare that made Amity shiver. It was exactly the way their mother had looked at them when she was displeased, which had been often. There had never been shouting or threats from the woman. Just a penetrating gaze and a palpable aura of disappointment and shame. 

It was precisely the right weapon for the job. Despite her embarrassment, Amity couldn’t help but be impressed. Nor could she suppress the faint shiver at the familiarity of it. Edric made a valiant effort of ignoring it at first but slowly began to flag.

“C’mon, Em, it was just a joke.”

Emira continued to stare. Edric chuckled as he turned to his younger sister, but she pointedly looked away.

“Really, Emira, you’re going to try and use  _ mom’s _ stare on me?”

If she heard him, Emira didn’t acknowledge it. Just kept staring at the witch as he fidgeted in his seat. Amity swore she could feel the temperature of the air around them rising in lockstep with her brother’s steadily progressing blush.

“Fine!” Edric finally shouted, earning yet more attention for their table. Amity would have liked nothing better at the moment than to have been an illusionist, like her siblings, so that she could simply make herself disappear. “Fine,” he mumbled. Turning to her, Edric sighed, and Amity recognized the signs of someone taking a moment to collect themselves. It was something she’d never realized they shared. She softened a bit at that. 

_ Maybe he was taking the time to compose his thoughts so that he could actually say something comforting. Edric was getting older. Maybe he was finally matur- _

“That’s rough, bud.”

Or not.

Judging by the way she cuffed the back of his head, Emira didn’t find his answer very satisfactory either. “Alright Em, I get it,” Edric whined, cringing away from his twin. 

“You know I’m not great with this stuff Mittens,” he began, surprising her with the sudden shift in his tone. He seemed… sad, almost. “Pining and crushes and all that just aren’t really my thing, you know? If I like someone, I just tell them, and then the chips fall where they will. But,” he stopped for a moment, as if trying to find the right words, “I know that not everyone is like that.”

Edric chuckled at that one, but it wasn’t the usual mocking laughter. That same mournful tone marked it, turning into something sad and introspective that was entirely unlike him. Amity flashed a look to Emira, who seemed just as confused by the sudden shift. The elder Blight shrugged, flashing a concerned look at their brother.

“I guess,” he continued, “I just don’t see things the same way you do. I still think it’s hilarious, but if you’re that torn up about it, well, I just won’t make the jokes to your face.”

“That’s not,” Emira began, spell broken as her fury rekindled.

“Thank you Edric,” Amity interrupted. Her sister’s protests died in her throat as she glanced back at her. Even he looked shocked at first, though it quickly faded into a sad smile. That too left his face in rapid succession, replaced almost immediately by his customary smirk. For a moment, she wondered what kind of person made a good illusionist. 

_ Probably the sort of person whose biggest lies are to themselves. _

“Anytime Mittens,” he snarked back, earning a discontented sigh and a shaking head from his twin. At least she put her hand down. “Still,” he continued, “for a reunion that didn’t go exactly as you expected, you two certainly seemed as close as ever. Closer even.”

“Well,” Emira chimed in, “she is a Blight.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Edric replied, almost too quick, as if eager to leave behind whatever had gone on between them. 

“We’re notorious for being irresistible to the fairer sex,” Emira quipped, reigniting the dormant blush in Amity’s cheeks.

“Is that why Viney spent those first few months doing everything in her power to avoid you?” Edric asked, chuckling.

“That was just a part of the dance,” Emira huffed.

“Oh,  _ the dance _ ? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t know about the dance.” Emira turned back to Amity, an inviting grin across her features. “Come on Mittens, tell Ed about the dance. I’m sure all those books you secreted away into your den have something to say about it.”

Amity was trying to pay attention to the conversation. She really was. It was sweet, the way that Emira was trying to get her involved, and none of them had expected that Edric would actually drop his facade like that, but her thoughts were entirely elsewhere. Specifically, to a certain night, well over a couple of years ago, where the dance in question had been anything but subtle and unsaid.

“Isles to Amity. Bonesborough, we’ve got a problem. Private Mittens is not responding to any attempt to hail her.”

As usual, Edric was responsible for pulling her out of her thoroughly pleasant thoughts. She glared at him, perhaps not with the intensity of the Blight stare, but certainly something close. The smug jerk didn’t even have the decency to pretend to be intimidated.

“Did you have a reason to drag me out here?” Amity asked, losing her patience, “Because I’m fairly sure if we were actually this late to see Lilith that she would have sent a search party out by now.”

It wasn’t that far from the truth, actually. Amity had gotten lost in one of the mobile parts of the woods for less than an hour, and Lilith had scrambled an entire squad of peacekeepers to find her. The strangest thing was, she hadn’t even been that embarrassed. It was… nice to have someone who was overprotective because they cared about you, and not because of how it would reflect on them if you got hurt.

“Well, not exactly…”

“Define ‘not exactly’ Edric.”

“No,” Emira interjected, cutting off their brother, who seemed like he was about to launch into some long-winded joke, “and also yes, I suppose.”

“No and yes?” Amity asked, hesitant. She spared a glance for poor Ed, practically deflated. Slowly, precisely, she twisted a finger under the table, visualizing an amorphous hand stealthily tying his shoelaces together. She had no way of knowing if it worked or not without giving herself away, so she chalked that one up to hope.

“Well, no in the sense that our fearless leader didn’t actually request your presence, but yes in the sense that we had a reason for ‘ _ dragging you out here _ ,’ as you so eloquently put it.” Emira scoffed at the thought of that, picking her scroll up off of the table at its buzzing insistence. As she tapped away a response, she added, as if an afterthought. “You make it sound like we abducted you or something. Willow’s got it handled.”

_ Well, Amity did not like the sound of that at all. _

“And what does that mean?” the youngest Blight asked, practically  _ feeling  _ her blood pressure spike.

“Careful Mittens,” Edric chided, “you’ll burst a vessel.”

“It’s simple really,” his twin added, “as we’ve covered up until now, neither of us is as good at the whole ‘encouraging romance and seducing witches’ thing as our dashingly good looks and award-winning personalities would suggest, so we’ve turned it over to the master.”

“Willow…” Amity began, “the master of ‘seducing witches and encouraging romance?”

“Well, she’s good at gardening,” Edric simply stated, earning a nod from Emira.

“She’s good at…” Amity trailed off, taking a moment to look both of her siblings in the eye. “You’re joking, right? This is another joke? You’re messing with me?”

“I don’t know, are we messing with her Em?”

“Hmm, oh, no clue Ed. I’m still focusing on counting the number of seconds it's been since Mittens has gone without denying that she wants to romance and/or seduce a certain someone.”

“That’s beside the point!” Amity spluttered out.

“Still haven’t denied it, Mittens,” Emira replied, smirking.

Calling the color that bloomed across her face a blush would be like referring to a forest fire as a spark, like calling a blast furnace a campfire. Despite that, Amity felt closest to the last one, because you could definitely roast marshmallows off of her. Regardless of if they were good thoughts or not, this was not a conversation she wanted to be having here, and with her  _ siblings _ of all people. 

“Relax, Mittens,” Edric quipped, “the three of us have got everything handled.”

“Four of us, actually,” Emira corrected.

“Four, I thought we only had three?”

“Late join. Forgot to mention it.”

“Who?”

In response, Emira nodded towards Amity, then tapped out a quick sequence on the table. It might as well have been Spanish to her for all she got out of it, but understanding immediately dawned on Edric’s features.

“Ohh, that’s an interesting development.”

“I thought so.”

“They in on the betting pool?”

“You’re making bets?” Amity managed to squeak out.

“Oh, for sure,” Edric replied. “I think we’re up to, oh, three hundred snails at this point?”

“Closer to six hundred actually,” Emira corrected again, absently tapping a response on her scroll. “Huh,” she remarked, “make it five people in and six-fifty snails.”

“Hey, you really know how to pick em sis.”

“Are you two both still about sixteen-and-a-half pelts?” Amity asked, forcing civility into her tone.

“Just about.” Edric replied, eyes narrowing as he thought about the question, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m pretty sure the undertaker needs to know heights to get his measurements right.”

“They actually have a standard set of coffins for most folks,” Emira interjected, “height really only comes into play if you’re at either extreme of the spectrum.”

Amity and Edric stopped staring at each other across the table in order to turn their attention to their sister. As if feeling their eyes on her, Emira looked up and shrugged.

“What? Never know when you’ll need the information.”

“Well,” Amity began, pushing herself up from the table, “as fun as this was, I think I’m going to get going before  _ I’m  _ the one who needs a casket.”

Emira waved in response, returning to her scroll, but Edric seemed intent on keeping her at the table. He went so far as to push himself back from it and stand up, but the moment he tried to move and block the witch her hopes were realized. She got an actual look of shock out of him before his laces took advantage of his momentum and sent him tumbling to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, Amity made her exit, a sly smile crossing her face as Emira’s laughter and Edric’s swears filtered out of the cafe behind her.

After all, she had work to do. There was no way she was leaving her future up to Willow and the twins. Despite their flaws though, they had a few good points. “Encouraging a romance” sounded like a pretty good idea, all things considered. As for the other thing… Well, that still brought a blush to her cheeks that rivaled the sun.

_ But she wasn’t ruling it out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, so much for that "getting more out" thing. Turns out my internet wasn't on board with that particular plan. Nevertheless, the chapter got out, and I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc. that you've given this piece. And happy Thanksgiving for those of you who celebrate!


	8. Todo Este Tiempo

Gus lived in one of the few quiet parts of town, a quaint little collection of homes that had aged gracefully, melding into the terrain around them with little hint that they’d ever not been there. Luz hadn’t spent nearly as much time there as she had at Willow’s, largely because it wouldn’t have been a great idea to hang around a reporter’s house when she was literally public enemy number one. (Well, technically number three, considering how the Clawthorne sisters had bickered endlessly over who got to be one and two.) Still, as they approached the door, little wisps of nostalgia seemed to creep out of the stones and flower beds around her. 

That was one of many things Luz loved about the Isles. Just about everyone had some kind of garden. Sure, they took a lot of different forms, but the residents seemed to consider any sort of yard or property without something growing on it to be space wasted. In the case of the Porters’ yard, well-kept bushes and stubby, hardy bushes were flanked by wilder, oddly familiar plants. Familiar enough to earn a double-take, leading to the surprising revelation that they were plants from the human realm.

_ How had he?... _

“They’re warded,” came a voice from her right, Willow, who must have noticed her staring at the cluster of roses that had wrapped themselves around a sturdy little trellis. “Gus and I figured it out about a year back,” she continued, earning a quick glance from her fellow witch at the mention of his name as he fiddled with something at the door. “Normally the weather would make it impossible for anything from your side of the fence to grow over here, but I figured out some fertilizers that would introduce a bit of magic to them while they grew. And Gus,” she said, leaning down to grab a rock from the path, “figured this out.”

She punctuated her statement by tossing the rock at the roses. As it hit, little ripples spread out from the point of impact across the surface of an invisible barrier that started just at the tips of the flower’s leaves. 

“That’s really cool, you guys,” Luz whispered, awestruck. There was something about seeing something so delicate, so familiar take root in the Isles that filled her chest with warmth. Judging by the way Willow smiled at her, she’d picked up on it as well. The botanist set a hand on her shoulder, still grinning.

“We failed about a dozen times before we got that one to work, but eventually we got some to take hold. And once we got that figured out, well, it was easy to figure out the rest.” 

“The rest?...” Luz asked, trailing off as she followed Willow’s sweeping gesture across the garden. There were a few more roses, all of them seeming to take well to their accommodations, but also all manner of other flowers. Daffodils and lilies, daisies and mums, even a few small ferns and patches of wildflowers. What really caught her attention was the little cluster of straight, sectioned green stalks in the corner...

“No idea what bamboo is, huh?” she asked, glancing back at Willow, who fixed her with a sly grin.

“Well I couldn’t exactly give the surprise away, could I?” Willow responded.

“And there we go,” Gus exclaimed, stepping away from the door, which was slowly changing color and drifting apart into a blue haze. “That one was rough!”

“His dad leaves puzzles for him in the door illusion,” Willow explained, seemingly picking up on Luz’s confusion. “Sometimes they’re simple, but most of the time it takes him a while to get it open.”

“Why not just use a door?” she responded.

“Why would you? Doors can be broken or picked.” Gus replied, whirling around to face her and barely managing to catch himself on the railing. It seemed he was just as unused to his height as everyone else was or, well, as she was. That was definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Fair point,” Luz conceded.

“Anyways,” the illusionist of the trio began, stepping aside and gesturing for the two of them to enter. “Those plants were just a part of the surprise. The rest awaits us upstairs!”

Gus waited for the two of them to enter before tapping his staff against the floor and causing the haze to coalesce into the shape of the door. With another tap, it transmuted to wood, looking to all the world like it had been there the whole time. Luz didn’t even bother to hide the grin on her face at that particular display of magic, and Gus smiled back at her in turn.

“Shall we?” He asked, excitement barely contained.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll explode if we don’t,” Luz teased, earning a chuckle from Willow.

“Then follow me!” he shouted, rushing up the stairs two at a time, Luz not far behind him. Behind her, she could hear a faint sigh from Willow as she took them like a normal person, but a quick look back confirmed she seemed just as excited as Gus.

Luz was pleased to see that his room hadn’t changed nearly as much as he did. Everything was still cluttered, still teetering on the edge of organized chaos and overt disaster zone. Sure, there was a place for everything, but everything was flowing out of its place. Scattered “artifacts” covered every available surface, supported by a foundation of instructional manuals, water-damaged magazines, and knick-knacks. The whole thing had a sense of destructive potential to it, as if at any moment something might fall out of careful alignment and the whole display would come crashing down. 

Here and there a few additions made themselves apparent. One corner of the room now held a mannequin bedecked in a threadbare suit that was about three sizes too small for Gus’ lanky frame. Pinned to various points along its body were little paper notes saying things like “34w x 38l?” and “Why are these pockets even here?” The same sort of notes marked everything that Gus seemed to currently be working on, though there didn’t seem to be any particular project that seemed like “the most incredible artifact yet.” 

That is, until he finished rooting around in a cabinet under his desk and pulled out a confusing mess of wires, dials, and crystals that he set down with a solid thud. Turning to make sure he had her interest, Gus squared his shoulders and made a show of summoning his scroll in one hand. Luz chuckled at the sight. It was good to see that he still had his flair for the dramatic.

“And now I just have to hook this up,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone. “Connect the wires, flip the projector, activate the power source…” he trailed off, absentmindedly reaching to his right before wrapping his fingers around his staff, passed to him by Willow with a practiced motion. “And… we’re a go!”

Luz’s jaw dropped as Gus stepped away from the machine, revealing a flat image projected into the middle of the room. It was incredible, a construct of shimmering energy and swirling dust, given color by something within the machine on the desk. By the time her brain caught up to what exactly she was seeing, she felt her brain practically short circuit. Because the thing he was projecting, God he was looking at it so seriously. 

And it was a damned meme.

An honest-to-god, four-panel, stock photo of a woman who looked utterly baffled as equations and shapes swirled around her head. Gus stared at it like it held all the secrets of the universe in its heavily compressed glory. Even Willow seemed interested. Both of them looked baffled as Luz all but doubled over in laughter. Desperately, she tried to stifle it, to explain to them what they were actually looking at, but the confusion on their faces just pushed her over the edge into another fit.

_ And it felt good. _

It wasn’t that she’d never laughed since she’d left. She hadn’t been  _ that much  _ of a baby about it. She’d laughed and cried and lived and done whatever else it took to keep herself from going insane, even had a few “friends,” as in people she talked to on occasion, and mostly online at that, but she certainly hadn’t had this. This honest, heart-on-your-sleeve, no judgments cast and no expectations held sort of friendship. And god, she’d missed it.

When Luz finally managed to get herself under control, groaning at the soreness in her gut, she looked up at her two friends and wiped a tear from her eye. The looks on their faces were… interesting, to say the least. Gus looked utterly bewildered, his eyes constantly darting between her and the projection, as if trying to make the connection by sheer force of will. Willow looked more concerned, though her expression quickly softened when she got a good look at her face. What she wouldn’t give to have that level of insight into people’s feelings.

“Sorry,” Luz finally managed to squeeze out, groaning slightly. “I don’t even know where to begin on this, because you do not have anything even remotely resembling the right context for it.” She gestured to the projection, stifling another chuckle as she did. “It’s not even that funny, to be honest,” she mused, “it’s really meant to go with something else.”

“And what would that be?” Gus asked, eagerly pulling a well-worn notebook and a pen out from a bin full of similarly tattered journals.

“Well,” she began, looking the image over for the third time. “I guess you’d start by referencing something that really confuses you…”

  
  


Willow tried her best to pay attention. Honestly, she did. But the human stuff had always been more of Gus’ thing. She was content with helping him when he needed it, but her favorite “artifact” from the human world was currently fulfilling that role. Gus was utterly enraptured by Luz’s descriptions of some inscrutable human form of comedy. In a way, some of it made sense - or at least wasn’t completely out there - but most of it seemed to be the sort of thing you had to be there to understand. Granted, that could be said about most of the things Gus studied, so it was entirely up his alley.

She left them to it, gravitating towards her fellow witch’s desk, where the sole sign of her consistent presence could be found. Harold was a beautiful little cruorchid - a lovely, lilting sort of flower with bright red leaves and a white stalk that stood in stark contrast against the clutter that surrounded him. He was the product of a bet between the two of them. One that had initially been born of frustration, but had eventually morphed into something that brought them closer than they’d ever been.

It had all started when Luz left the Isle, which she realized with a pang was how a lot of her stories started. Hopefully, she’d be able to rectify that particular issue in the near future. With the emperor gone and the Isles in chaos, everyone suddenly realized that they were free to use whatever sort of magic they wanted. Yet, curiously, very few people actually seemed to  _ want to _ . The coven witches were one matter. The charms which bound them to a specific school of magic were some ironclad works of arcana. As far as she knew, they still hadn’t been broken. Even still, most of the witches who hadn’t yet joined the coven system still seemed more comfortable with sticking to one school of magic. Gus and Willow were notable exceptions, but then again, they  _ were  _ friends with the girl who’d torn down the system in the first place.

_ As for what she was doing now… _

“No, that’s not it. You’re not really getting it. The joke isn’t that the tools weren’t supposed to be used on the grape. It’s that they were. Just, the way that the guy said it in the video, that’s what was funny.”

_ Well, heroes can’t be tearing down systems all the time. _

In fact, the system itself wasn’t that bad of an idea. Just poorly implemented. She and Gus had realized some of the benefits of it when they immediately attempted to follow in their absent friend’s footsteps. Gus had immediately thrown himself into oracle classes, chasing some theory about there having been other humans in the Isles besides Luz and Belos, and that maybe if he was able to talk to their remains, he could learn something about human culture. Willow had taken a shot at healing, but that turned out to be a disaster. People and animals were just a lot more complicated than plants, and they had all these feelings that really made it a bummer to work with them. Not that plants didn’t have feelings - Harold, for instance, was currently working through some complex feelings towards his dependence on a witch for sustenance - but they just felt them differently. Plants were sensible, people were the weird ones.

Eventually, they’d conceded that they just weren’t choosing the right tracks. There was a lot of disappointment brewing on both ends, and Gus had suggested that he might as well go for plant magic next, and she’d responded with an uncharacteristic “What’s that supposed to mean?” Well, him calling it the easiest track was the last thing she’d wanted to hear at that point, so she’d made a bet. One that could have ended in terrible disaster, thinking about it now. She’d been working on a batch of cruorchids, Harold amongst them, and they were just a real pain in her butt to keep going. So she’d suggested that he should take care of one and prove how easy plant magic was. In turn, she’d master any illusion he set in front of her.

_ Titan, was that a mess.  _

Willow was drawn from her thoughts by a whispering tone of chimes disturbed by a light breeze, and she immediately summoned her scroll. There were very few people that messaged her, and all of them were important. Besides, she had a pretty good idea of who it was. Sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed when the notification was accompanied by the nickname “Arborvitae, Blight.”

* * *

What exactly are you planning?

Hello to you too Amity

My day is going well, thanks for asking

Don’t play coy. I talked with Ed and Em.

I would hope so

They are your siblings after all

Allegedly. I never got a straight answer on whether or not they were grown out of a tube.

But that’s beside the point.

They told me you were testing the waters...

What exactly does that entail?

Curious about my process?

There’s a process?

Do you doubt me, Miss Blight?

On practically anything else? No.

On this, well…

Oh ye of little faith

Really? You can use “ye” correctly but still refuse to use proper punctuation?

They’re private, informal messages Amity. No one but us is ever going to read them. Why would I ever need to talk like this when it’s so much easier not to.

It’s about the principle.

It’s about the path of least resistance

Stop distracting me.

I’m not the one that went off on a tangent

You’re just very easily distracted

That’s… mostly true.

Especially now?

Especially now.

* * *

Willow chuckled at the admission, glancing up at the cause of such distraction as she did. Luz was currently drawing some kind of diagram on one of Gus’ chalkboards. The thing was practically covered in that awfully cramped, rushed thing she knew passed for her handwriting. Still, she could make out words here and there; “dankness,” “relatability,” “irony,” all of it nonsense. She perked up at a word that could have been “vine,” circled several times over but with a line dashed through it, but she had a feeling it wasn’t the sort she’d be interested in. Still, seeing Luz stand there, utterly focused as she explained something that no one else understood, Willow couldn’t help but recall a night two years ago, when a younger version of the same girl had been scratching out plans in the dirt on how they were going to topple an empire.

_ How times change.  _

Her thoughts wandered further, to the fight, sure, but also to the night after. The empty feeling in her chest, hedging out the exhilaration, as she wondered whether she’d seen her best friend for the last time. The sobbing form of another friend, come back after so long apart, as she handled the same grief in her own way. Though she’d never said it out loud, Willow had promised them both in that moment that she’d do everything they could to at least give them a shot. Sometimes all a plant needed was a clear path to grow and some care to get it on its way, and she’d be damned if they at least didn’t get that. They deserved it, after all they did for everyone else.

* * *

I take it you’re coming to dinner tonight?

Well, I was invited, but if you’d rather have some time just with friends…

Amity Blight

Willow Park?...

One; you’re a friend

Two; you were invited, so of course you’re wanted

Three; if you didn’t come, I think Luz would mope for the rest of the night

Need I continue? I have more

Message received.

Good, I’ll see you tonight then

Wear something nice

Formal hardly strikes me as Eda’s style.

It’s not, but I just want to see Luz blush. It’s adorable

You’re incorrigible.

I’m sowing seeds

* * *

Willow vanished her scroll at that one. What she actually wanted to say was “if I have to watch you pine for this girl any longer I’m just going to hit you both over the head, dump you on the Knee, and let you figure it out yourselves,” but she didn’t think Amity would take that one too well. People weren’t sensible like that. Zoning into the conversation between her two friends, Willow listened carefully before adding her own point.

“So a meme is basically like a disease, but it passes through the internet?”

“That’s…” Luz began, before trailing off, a thoughtful expression slowly crossing her features, “actually a really good way of explaining it! I mean, it isn’t perfect, but it’s way better than any of my explanations.”

Gus shot her a glare at that one. He hated being the last person to figure something out, especially when it related to human things. She shrugged in response, chuckling at the way he huffed and pointedly looked away. He’d be fine in five, ten minutes tops. Thankfully, they had the time to spare.

“There’s just one thing I don’t get,” Luz mused, earning Willow’s attention.

“What might that be?” she replied.

“How are you powering all of this? I thought your scrolls ran off of your own magic, and that’s why you don’t always have them out?”

“Oh, that’s actually one of the coolest parts,” Gus exclaimed, pushing himself off of his spot on the floor and towards the device on his desk. Willow grinned to herself at the quick recovery.

“One of my buddies in the HAS actually figured that one out about a year back,” he continued, digging into the machine. As he pulled one of the crystals free, the projection dispelled, collapsing into curls of sweet-smelling smoke that quickly vanished in turn. He’d explained it to her a dozen times, but she’d never quite picked up on what exactly the crystal did. Something to do with lightning…

“Basically, he figured that humans had to have some kind of alternate power source for their stuff besides magic. Then he found all these old manuals in a box that washed up on the northern shore. They talked about channeling lightning into little boxes that could hold them for later use. We thought he was crazy, but then he sent me one of these crystals, and he managed to do the same thing! It took us a whole summer, but we all managed to collaborate and eventually figure out the mechanics to convert lightning into this electricity stuff. Took a whole lot of scavenged parts and some creative artifice, but one of our guys is really good with metals, you know?”

Willow did know, but Gus wasn’t talking to her. Luz, meanwhile, had switched positions with him, taking up the role of the wide-eyed student as he explained the complex process of turning electricity to raw power, and then that to magical power, and then figuring out a way to let them switch back and forth. He seemed particularly proud of that one, and Willow didn’t blame them. There were some real professional witches who’d taken an interest in what he was working on. The sort of people who could make his dreams a reality.

“Of course, it’s not perfect. The conversion is really finicky and not at all efficient, so we’re pretty much limited to showing one image at a time. There’s videos saved on the phone, music too I think, but that’s all way too intense to put through this little device.”

“But it keeps everything charged and working?” Luz asked, apparently awestruck.

“Sure does!” Gus replied, beaming. “Though, like I said, the whole thing is really delicate. One misaligned piece and it’ll drain the whole crystal like that,” he snapped, manifesting a little spark of illusory lightning to punctuate his point before continuing, “and these things are really risky to fill. We’re not quite sure why, but it has to be natural lightning, so that limits things pretty substantially. Max is working on building a better lightning rod, and Skara is looking into new applications, but we’re in the early stages of it right now.”

“Still,” he said, suddenly self-conscious, “it’s really cool, right?”

“It’s incredible Gus!” Luz replied, earning another bright smile from the witch. Titan, she really just brought that warmth wherever she went, didn’t she? “I’ve never seen anything like it, which is kind of normal for the Isles, but this is something totally new!” She grinned to match him, punching him playfully on the shoulder. “Look at you, Mr. Prodigy. I can see why they gave you a staff so early. If there’s anything I can do, any sort of things you need me to look out for or try to get from my side of the fence, just let me know.”

If it was at all possible, Gus’ smile grew even wider at that particular promise. Willow knew he’d wanted to broach the topic at some point in the night, so him getting a confirmation so soon after she arrived was guaranteed to send him into a proper fit. Willow spared a glance out the window, surprised to find that the sky had started darkening already. Had they really spent hours up here?

“In the interest of preventing Gus from going into a manic state and Eda from putting us all in a comatose one, maybe we should get going?”

Both of her friends seemed to snap out of their respective trains of thought at the sound of her voice, Luz in particular tossing her a sheepish grin.

“Sorry Wills, suppose we got a bit carried away with things,” she conceded.

“I don’t mind,” Willow replied, shaking her head, “Harold makes for great company.”

“Who?”

“The flower on my desk,” Gus chimed in. He crossed the room, carefully placing the notebook he’d been writing in exactly where he’d left it. Patting himself down, as if looking for something, he held out a hand absentmindedly. Willow tossed his staff in the air with one foot, setting it straight before pushing it his way, where it came to a rest in his hand. He nodded at her in thanks, nonplussed, while Luz went wide-eyed at the display.

“You guys are so in sync it’s kind of scary,” she murmured.

“Well, we’re Bonded, you know?” Gus quipped, finally seeming to remember that he’d left his scroll in the machine. As he retrieved it, Willow chuckled.

“Gus,” she teased, “how would she know?”

“Wait, are you guys?...”

“No Luz, not like that,” Willow replied, flushing a bit at the way Gus just chuckled and shook his head.

_ It wasn’t that outlandish of an idea, was it? _

“When two witches are Bonded, capital ‘B’, it means that they’ve practiced magic in close proximity for so long that they develop a sort of sixth sense for each other,” Willow explained. “It’s some kind of instinct left over from the old days. Makes it easier to predict how your friends are going to handle things, lets you plan your own moves better.”

“Does it let you feel their emotions too?” Luz asked, suddenly intense in her curiosity.

“Only if you’re in close proximity, and even then only if the Bond is super deep,” Gus chimed in, totally oblivious to the emotions his explanation caused to bloom across Luz’s features. Willow stored that particular revelation away for later.

“Luz?” she asked quietly, “You ready to get going?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m good. Let me just…” she trailed off, looking for something, before catching on that odd floppy hat that she’d hung up on the corner of the chalkboard. Firmly fixing it on her head, tucking her hair into as she did so, Luz took one last look around the room before flashing the two of them a thumbs up. 

As the three of them exited the house, Gus taking a moment to leave his own puzzle for his dad, Willow took in a breath of fresh air, enjoying the unusual scents that the human plants lent it. She had a book on her shelf at home, one of the few things that she’d purchased from Eda’s shop, that described each of the plants in the garden. Humans and witches weren’t so different when it came to their plants. Granted, plants in the Isles were a lot more blatant about it, but the human plants had a decided magic of their own. The little language of meanings they’d come up with for them had been a pleasant surprise to her, but a useful one. People were a lot easier to understand when you could just assign them to a plant they resembled.

Gus, for instance, was saved in her contacts as “Fern, Porter.” She’d had a hell of a time explaining to him how well it fit, and she still wasn’t sure if he understood, but it was the thought that counts. Though she wasn’t in her contacts, Willow had come to think of Luz as a zinnia and had indicated as much in their letters. Luz had looked it up, agreeing that while they were apart it seemed appropriate. Now though, she was starting to see her human friend for what she really was; a fierce violet.

  
The road stretched out ahead of them, and almost immediately she found herself pulled into the kind of inconsequential conversation she and Gus had had an untold number of times since Luz had left. This time though, with her included, it just felt  _ right _ . As if she’d been listening to a duet that had always been meant to be a trio. Fine on its own, but listen to it as intended and it took on a whole new sound. Or maybe just a sound that it was always meant to make…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! New chapter and a new POV included with Willow. Just to provide some insight, I'm likely going to keep to this pattern of starting each chapter switching between Luz's and Amity's POV, and I've tried to indicate this distinction in the chapter titles. However, there will be a bit of switching to secondary perspectives here and there as it benefits the story. Let me know if you guys are picking up on that, because I'm kind of on the fence about the current format.
> 
> I probably wrote this entire chapter over three times in the last five days. For some reason, it just really wasn't meshing in my head, but I think I finally got it in a form I was satisfied with. All things considered, I'm pretty happy with how this story is shaping up so far. You all seem pretty intent on it as well, so that's a nice bonus! The next chapter is another long one, so it may take a bit of time to get out. But I will say, we're starting to get into the end of this particular arc in the story. Be ready for it to start picking it up after this point. I just wanted to get all of my pieces in a row and all of the important relationships established first.
> 
> If you're confused about the flower meanings, I included them here;  
> Arborvitae ~ Unchanging friendship  
> Fern ~ Sincerity, humility; also, magic and bonds of love  
> Violet ~ Loyalty, devotion, faithfulness, modesty  
> Zinnia ~ Thoughts of absent friends


	9. The Neverending Torment of Amity Blight

Amity barely spared a glance for her surroundings as she spelled the front door open. Thankfully, Lilith wasn’t home - she never seemed to be lately - so there was no one waiting in the living room to chastise her for her outburst. She grumbled as she took the stairs one thudding footstep at a time. She would have made it all the way to her room in that manner, were it not for an unfamiliar flash of color that caught the corner of her eye.

Her hands went up, almost subconsciously. Magic danced between her fingers as she settled onto the balls of her feet. Defensive, prepared for whatever had invaded this previously safe space. And...

_ It was a painting. _

Chuckling ruefully at the sorry sight she must have been, Amity dismissed her magic, the crackling energy dispersing as she let out a sigh. As her breathing settled back to normal, she took stock of the newest addition to the wall. It was the sixth such painting that had been added to it since she’d moved in with Lilith. She still remembered how barren her mentor’s home had been those first few weeks. How the only decorations were dusty relics and muted tapestries locked behind panes of warded glass.

The first painting had been a spur of the moment purchase. An utter surprise to Amity who, in all her years of knowing the elder witch, had never known her to be fond of anything that varied beyond a small selection of greys. It hung at the far end of the hallway, just to the right of Lilith’s bedroom door. Amity was fond of the memory. Of the way Lilith had been so morose, so overwhelmed with the work of putting the Isles back together, and of how that had all melted away when she saw the subtle blues and whites of the northern Isles splashed across the canvas.

It hung there still, preceding another of a similar subject, though this one depicted a scene of vibrant reds and oranges - the central valley, where all manner of colorful trees grew. In fact, each painting showed a different part of the Isles. Eventually, Amity’s curiosity had overwhelmed her, and she’d asked her mentor after her reasoning. Her response had stayed with her ever since.

_ “I’ve never a break from the people of the Isles, but I’m charged with protecting the land as much as those on it. Seeing it laid out in front of me, it makes it that much more precious. Reminds me of all we’re blessed to have, and all we stand to lose.” _

The newest addition kept the tradition alive. Intimately familiar to Amity were the crooked spires and winding streets of Bonesborough. The only home she’d ever known. The artist must have flown out over the bay to get the angle, but she had the slightest clue how they’d managed to paint from the back of a broom. It was clear that they too were a native. They’d gotten that lingering sense of danger down perfectly, but also the warmth that lurked just below the surface. 

It looked good next to the others, she decided. Exactly where it was meant to be. Which begged the question of what Lilith was going to put in the last of the free spaces. Each painting had come from a less distant locale, growing closer to their immediate area as they progressed along the wall. For the life of her, Amity couldn’t imagine anything that would fill that last slot. Maybe she’d have someone paint the house? 

As her thoughts were wont to do these days, they inevitably drifted to the past, of days spent exploring a city she’d grown up in but never truly knew until she’d had to use her limited knowledge to guide a hapless human through its dangers. Of friendships found and rekindled. Of hope and joy turned to fear and anxiety once she’d chosen to throw in her lot with the very same human. Of the fierce pride that filled her still at the very thought of taking a stand for what she believed in. And of course, it all came back to Luz.

_ Which reminded her… _

Amity summoned her scroll, thinking through a couple possible confrontational opening lines before finally settling on “What exactly are you planning?” Willow’s response popped up shortly after, and the two of them went back and forth for a few minutes before the other witch elicited the closest thing she had yet to an admission that everything  _ wasn’t  _ the same as it had been before. She stared down at the words she’d written, “Especially now,” and grimaced at how much they stood to reveal.

She could imagine the smug look on Willow’s face. Or rather, the utter lack of one. Sure, she’d be plenty smug inside, but Willow was scarily good at coaching her face into a reserved smile that, despite her best efforts, was utterly immune to insight. She envied that about her. As the minutes passed, Amity found herself tapping absentmindedly against her doorframe. Which begged the question; when had she sat down?

The buzzing of her scroll disrupted that train of thought, and she fumbled with the device a moment before she opened Willow’s latest message; “I take it you’re coming to dinner tonight?”

_ Well, what did that mean? _

Oh sure, it could have just been a question, but was there more to it? Was Luz having such a good time with the two of them that she had mentioned wanting their plans to stay between them? Amity suddenly felt intensely selfish. It had taken Eda over a year to find a Tear stable enough to pass letters through, but Amity had been able to talk to Luz through the margins from day one. Worse still, she’d never once mentioned it to anyone besides Lilith. It had been  _ their  _ thing,  _ their  _ way of keeping in touch. And she’d hoarded it, jealous and insecure.

“Well, I was invited,” she typed, “but if you’d rather have some time just with friends…” She made sure to leave that door open, hopeful that Willow would just concede and let her be. Of course, she was too good of a friend to do something as silly as that. Amity reluctantly let herself be convinced by the other witch’s persuasions, eventually cutting her off with a simple “Message received.” That should have been the end of the matter, but Willow was nothing if not thorough.

“Wear something nice,” she’d said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Fire raced back into its customary place along her cheeks, then slowly up her face. Dimly, she could feel a part of her brain tapping out the typical, snarky reply that had been drilled into her from years spent with two masters of the art. That last reply though, that brought her back to the fore.

_ What the hell did “sowing seeds” mean anyway? _

The groan that Amity let out as she pushed herself up seemed like the perfect way to encapsulate the confusing mess of feelings that rushed through her mind. Still, they did anything but leave her as she walked into her bedroom. Half a dozen outfits were still laid out from the morning’s panicked indecision. Before she could repeat that particular routine, she grabbed the nicest of them and started to change. As she pulled the loose, flowing black top over her head, squeezing her mane of hair through the neck, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

She really had let her hair get out of control. Lilith and Emira insisted it was the only way to outpace the magical dye that had rendered it green for so many years. Still, the way it just bushed out around her head couldn’t have been attractive. The unruly curls, a confusing mix of green and brown, that refused to conform no matter how hard she worked at them, were one of the few fights she’d simply given up on. Normally, she wouldn’t care all that much, but then again, she had a reason to care now.

Otherwise, as she stepped into the matching white skirt and pulled it to her waist, she had to admit she looked better. Willow had never managed to convince her to go running, but she kept busy between her lessons with Lilith and her work at the library. It was certainly a far cry from the sun-starved frame she’d had for the duration of her school years. “Outside of being healthy enough to work magic,” her mother had said more times than she could count, “it is not ladylike to engage in such base physical pursuits.” That was why grudgby had to be dropped as soon as she began her study of magic in earnest. She had a chuckle at the thought of the horror that would touch her mother’s features if she ever found out Amity had been doing  _ labor  _ for the better part of the last year.

_ Of course, that was just a distraction. _

The witch in question fell backward onto her mattress, letting her legs dangle over the edge as she stared up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. Briefly, she considered resummoning her scroll, telling Willow that something had come up and she wouldn’t be able to make it, but the thought of getting caught in a lie stopped her in her tracks. If there was one thing Willow hated, it was liars, and Amity was not looking to be on her bad side. Instead, she sighed loudly, bringing her hands to her face and pressing them into the heat that she felt bloom beneath her fingers.

And she opened the little locked door in her head that she’d been hiding the  _ other  _ thoughts behind. The ones she’d so desperately been avoiding since that night, two years ago, when the entire world had fallen out from under her. That same chain of thoughts, always there, in the corner of her mind. The ones she could never escape. The ones that absolutely needed to be sorted through before she made any rash decisions.

~---~

Because how do you explain to someone that the moment they left, you felt more alone than you ever had before? How do you tell that person that you don't hold it against them, really, but you just can't get over those moments? Those sad, trembling moments when you clung to the memories you had of them and desperately wished to either be by their side or nowhere at all? How, exactly, do you get those thoughts across without driving the other person away? Because those  _ are not _ normal thoughts. 

Oh sure, they're all over the books she read, but the only reason they are is because people want to live in a fantasy where it's acceptable to bare their heart and lay the burden of it on someone else without consequence. (And honestly, it's still not healthy to think that way, even if it is a fictional person having those thoughts.) No one else should have to be the one thing tying you to the world. No one  _ deserves _ that burden, that weight. 

But when you're a little girl, and your whole life turns upside down, and your parents leave you, and your only remaining family are a pair of children hardly older than you that are (rightfully) terrified at the prospect of taking care of you, well, you latch onto that one light in your life. Even if it's distant. Even if there's a very good chance that you're  _ never _ going to see it again. Because those glimpses you had of it in the brief time that it shined on you are the only things you have which remind you the world can be a better place.

That, even when other lights flash into existence, even when you start to open up and let them into your life, every interaction with them is framed by those precious moments with the first. Your first  _ real _ friend. The first person who made you feel like you had worth independent of who your parents were or what you could do. The light that revealed the connections you had and could have to those around you. Who, in complete and utter honesty, showed you what it was like to really love someone.

How do you sort through all of those emotions, all of those feelings, and try to make sense of the person behind them? Are they a person in and of themselves, or are they the ideal? If the sun were to suddenly come down to the earth as a person, would you love them because they're the sun, or because of the person they’d become? And worse still, (though you can barely even consider the thought without spiraling so hard into oblivion that you can feel your soul crumbling) what if you were to act on the way you feel, and it didn't work out? Could you live a life without the sun? Or worse still, could you live one where it still shines, but not on you?

And the craziest thing is that you can see the way the sun looks at you. The way they speak to you, the tone that only touches their voice for you. The silent gestures and motions that are ever-present, ever-devoted to keeping you safe, to keeping you happy, and to keeping you near. You know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that the sun cares for you almost as much as you care for it, but for the life of you, you can't understand why. Why? What have you given the sun that it would care for you in turn? (You don't even consider that the sun loves you the same way you love it, because it's the freaking sun and you're just one of an infinite number of things gazing back at it.) 

No, you know on a deep, intrinsic level that the sun loves you because that's what it  _ does _ . And no matter how hard you try, you can’t shake the feeling that you're no different from any of those infinite other things, save for the fact that you're probably the only fool who fell in love with it. It took you a long time to get there and if that means you don't get that same love back, you're willing to bear that pain, because anything is better than the darkness you knew without it.

So you keep quiet, and you do your best to control your emotions, but you fail every time. You stumble and you fall and you blush and you make a fool of yourself again and again and again, because at least you get to be in that light. At least you get to see her smile. At least you can hear her voice and enjoy her touch and revel in the feeling of being with her. Even if you'll never actually be  _ with _ her. Because, after all, life  _ isn't _ a story, no matter how desperately you want it to be. 

Amity felt the tears well up between her fingers, and like so many times before, she would have let them flow freely, but another thought flashed into her mind. Arms, familiar in their surprising strength, wrapped around her. Freeing her from gravity. From the world around her. Arms that held her close as they spun her through the air, and a sense of joy and warmth between them that wasn’t entirely either of their own.

And another, even brighter. Those same arms, pulling her close again. Minutes that stretched into hours. No words spoken, no great proclamations or confessions exchanged. Just a quiet, contemplative sort of affection she’d never gotten used to. That she’d missed  _ so much _ . Complete and utter calm in a world that was so often full of noise, and heartache, and expectations. Warmth given form. And again, the strangest sense, now that she looked back at it, of emotions that weren’t quite her own. That didn’t have that same edge of lingering anxiety.

And the strangest thing was, is that despite all of the thoughts that still ran through her head, all the doubts that still clung to the edges of her consciousness, Amity realized that she didn’t care. Not in the same way as she had. Because, for so long, the sun had been distant and unreachable. Beyond touch. Beyond sight even. But now, here she was, practically right in front of her, and Amity was trying to get out of her opportunity to see her again.

_ And that didn’t make any sense at all. _

Laughter cut through the tears, an odd, almost unhinged sort of laugh that, at first, scared her, but quickly turned into something warm and faintly rueful. What would Lilith say if she found her ward like this? What would the twins say? What would Gus or Willow say? With far less surprise than she would have expected, Amity realized that she had so many people in her life that cared about her. That wanted her to be happy. And it was about time that she became one of those people.

So before she could overthink it again, before she could come up with some self-pitying justification for why she shouldn’t try to find that happiness, Amity pushed herself off the bed, laced up her shoes, checked herself in the mirror, and realizing that she was as close as she would get to being satisfied with her appearance, made her way down the stairs. As she passed through the living room, she glanced at the clock without thinking, before remembering that dinner at the Owl House was rarely the sort of thing that happened at any specific time. That was fine enough, though. If they weren’t there yet, she’d wait. And if they were, well, she’d been invited, and she wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting.

~---~

While Edalyn Clawthorne was anything but a scholar, her living room had, on occasion, played host to some very bright magical minds, her own included. The work she’d done on the house alone had attracted plenty of Lily’s egghead friends, and she’d been more than happy to swindle them into paying for the privilege of observing it. There had always been a quiet pride in cutting them down to size, in piercing the cloud of words and theories they thought made them sound smart, and showing them what a real witch could do. Oh yes, there had been discussions in this room that could shake the Isles to their core.

_ The conversation it was currently hosting was not one of them. _

“So what’s the difference between a ‘doge’ and a ‘pupper’ then?” That was Augustus, Gus as Luz called him. He’d been pestering her since the moment they’d come in the door. Eda was just happy that he had a new person to bug with his questions about the human world. The things he was interested in were the things she had most tried to avoid about the other side, but he’d been nothing if not insistent. Eventually, she’d even agreed to sponsor that little society of his, which had actually turned out to be quite the boon to the Isles. Still, useful though they may be, there were only so many times he could show her the same picture before she went crazy. 

Willow, of course, was hardly engaging with the conversation. Instead, she’d busied herself with her scroll, occasionally interjecting to get Gus back on track from whatever tangent he’d gone on, but otherwise keeping to herself. Funny thing, Bonds. You never really notice how much you rely on them until they’re gone.

King, the little traitor, had taken up his place of honor in Luz’s lap. To anyone else, he would have seemed to be fast asleep, but Eda had grown wise to the demon’s tricks. The way you could tell whether he was actually only pretending to be asleep by watching his horns. There were subtle motions to them, if you paid attention. Deviations to one side or the other as his ears adjusted to make out every sound. He was surprisingly perceptive when he wanted to be, his memory (thankfully) longer than his attention span. She had no doubt that he’d find a way to incorporate whatever he was listening to into a conversation at some point in the future. He took pride in having “eyes and ears everywhere” these days, and there were reputations to uphold.

_ Speaking of which, it was time to defend her own. _

She laughed as she sidled into the room, perching on one arm of the couch as she cast her gaze over the three of them. “So,” she began, “are you kids actually learning anything at Hexside, or are they just keeping you around at this point for the hell of it?”

“Well, no one’s really sure how to handle things, now that you don’t have to be sorted into a coven at graduation,” Willow responded, looking up from her scroll.

“Everyone pretty much just stuck with the classes they were already taking,” Gus elaborated, “and the covens  _ are _ still around so…”

“Tsh, kids these days just don’t have the same spark they used to,” Eda growled, earning a trio of scowls from the witches assembled before her. “Present company excluded, of course,” she added almost as an afterthought. “Still, all the opportunity in the world, and maybe a couple dozen of you chose to mix things up. Even Lily was surprised by that one. I was even more surprised when she pulled baby Blight out of school altogether.”

“Wait,” Luz interjected, “Amity doesn’t go to Hexside anymore?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Eda asked, incredulous. “Figured she would have mentioned it in one of the two hundred letters she had me pass your way.”

“She didn’t send two hundred letters,” Luz retorted.

“You’re right kid, I think it was closer to three hundred,” Eda shot back, grinning.

“Anyways,” Luz said, pointedly turning away from her mentor, “it’s good to know. That she’s not going to Hexside, I mean.” She paused for a moment, suddenly contemplative. “Does that mean she’s studying privately with Lilith then?”

“Sure does, and that means you’re going to have to kick her butt,” Eda replied gleefully.

“What? Why?!”

“Because,” Eda began, slowly enunciating each word, “if I’m training my own pupil privately, and my dear sister is doing the same, we clearly have to make our students fight to see who the better teacher is. A rematch, if you will.”

“I  _ will _ not,” Luz huffed, indignant.

“You will if you want to catch up,” Eda replied, humor bleeding out of her tone. “You may be done with regular school, but I’m going to whip you into shape if it’s the last thing I do.”

“So, with that in mind, there’s no way we can convince you to come back to Hexside and do things our way?” Gus asked, voice plaintive.

“Not really,” Luz replied, causing a fierce pride to bubble up in Eda’s chest, “I think I’ve had enough of actual school for a lifetime.”

“Well I’m certainly not planning on going easy on you kid,” Eda warned, “we’ve got a lot to cover and, like I said, you’re pretty far behind.”

“Obviously,” Luz conceded, “but I’ll also be studying something that I’m actually interested in, rather than a bunch of stuff I’m never going to use. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that I had the opportunity to learn everything I did, and I’m sure some of it will be useful, but I can’t imagine most of it being relevant to magic at all.”

“To be fair, most of what they teach at school here isn’t that useful for magic,” Eda replied, earning another indignant expression from the other two students in the room. Curse her heart, she actually felt bad for it.

“What I mean is,” she amended, wondering for the life of her why she felt the need to justify herself to a bunch of children, “is that most of what you’re learning is busy work and memorization. You’ll do a lot better once you’ve had some time to study outside of school and really refine your abilities.”

That, at least, seemed to get through to them. Then again, they  _ were _ some pretty bright kids. She might make a big deal out of Gus’ constant requests for human junk, but he’d managed to spin artifice out of scrap that she would’ve never imagined impossible. As for Willow, well, one of the benefits of Eda’s newfound, wilder form of magic was a keen sense for the flow of power through the Isles, and while everyone else may not have realized it, the young plant witch was sitting on an enormous wellspring of potential. She’d tried to recruit her away from Hexside more than once, promising to show her a few things about wild magic that’d put her lessons to shame, but she’d been met with a painfully polite “no” each time.

_ And then there was Luz. _

Her ward; her only student. For all intents and purposes (though she’d never say it out loud) the closest thing she’d ever had to a daughter. When she’d first met her, there had been a sort of glow about her. Some subtle sense of radiance that she’d chalked up to a bubbly personality and a constant smile. The more she’d gotten to know the human though, the more she realized something else was going on. Luz glowed alright, and sure, some of that  _ was  _ her personality, but in a very real sense, Luz glowed with  _ power _ .

_ For the barest of moments, an image flashed into her mind. Two forms, both human, one wreathed in a miasma of shadow and condensed suffering, the other wreathed with a sky’s worth of lights bright as stars. _

“Expecting someone, Luz?” Willow joked, “I think you’ve looked at the door about a dozen times in the last minute”

The question caught her off guard, causing Eda to jump in tandem with her student, whose face immediately blushed at the question. Memories of battles and heartaches vanished as quickly as they formed. She barely had time to wonder what  _ that  _ was all about before Luz replied, sheepish.

“It’s weird,” she mumbled, just at the edge of hearing, “It’s like I can tell…”

Before she could finish her thought, the front door swung open, a form tumbling past it and onto the floor. Eda instinctively reached for her staff and was impressed to see Gus do the same, but they both relaxed almost immediately. It wasn’t an intruder, at least, not one that posed any threat. Just a baby Blight, red as a tomato. 

Luz was up before the rest of them, as if she’d anticipated that Amity was going to make such a spectacularly clumsy entrance. As she helped the blushing, fuming witch to her feet, Eda made the connection.

She let her eyes roam over the two of them, taking in little details. The way Luz’s hand lingered on Amity’s arm long after she’d pulled her to her feet. The way that baby Blight kept glancing around the room, first to Willow, then to her, then back to Luz. Always back to Luz. She especially noticed the less visible effects of their proximity to one another. The way strands of magic, just outside of her natural perception, curled around both of their forms, tentatively reaching out, as if desperate to flow from one to the other.

_ Now that was interesting. _

“You know something I don't about the dress code, kiddo?” Eda asked, causing the newcomer to turn an even brighter shade of red. She saw Amity practically every day, considering the way she was fused to Lily’s hip, but she’d rarely, if ever seen her bother to wear something as nice as the little semi-formal number she’d decided on for tonight. Of course, there  _ was _ a clear reason for that. Poor Luz, the girl barely knew where to look.

“Well,” Amity began, doing an admirable job of looking like she wasn’t fumbling for words, “I figured that it was a special occasion, and I didn’t want to be the only one who  _ wasn’t  _ dressed up.”

“I didn’t know we were dressing up,” Luz stuttered, eyes firmly cast down.

_ Titan, these kids were a mess. _

“Why don’t you go find something to match baby Blight then?” Eda suggested, a wicked grin crossing her features. “I’m sure she’d be willing to help.”

“I mean, if you want to,” Luz began, looking up at Amity, whose face was currently somewhere between crimson and scarlet.

“Only if you want to,” the witch replied hurriedly.

“No, it’s totally up to you!”

“It’s your house.”

“But you’re our guest.”

“I did kind of just show up like this, so it’s totally fi-”

“How about,” Eda interrupted, feeling herself get progressively more ill with each response, “we just let Luz go change, and then she can help me in the kitchen?”

“Great idea!” Luz shouted, finally seeming to notice that her hand was still on Amity’s arm and darting it away like she’d touched an open flame. Judging by how red the other witch was at this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if she  _ was  _ giving off that much heat. As adorable as it was, Eda still groaned internally at the sad expression that crossed Amity’s face as her student pulled away. Luz, on the other hand, flashed her a grateful glance as she looked back at her.

“Just hurry up, kiddo,” Eda added, “we’ve got plenty to get done before it’s ready.”

“Yes ma’am!” Luz replied, darting up the stairs.

As she vanished around the corner, Eda turned back to the now-maroon Blight statue in her living room. Amity looked back at her, blush slowly fading, and smiled weakly.

“It’s your house?” Eda asked, smirking.

“Well it basically is,” Amity huffed.

“Whatever you’ve got to tell yourself, kiddo,” Eda responded, chuckling. As she did, a thought crossed her mind, and she wondered if she was really going to be  _ that _ mean. Ah, what the hell. Tease ‘em while they’re young.

“Just do me a favor?” Eda quipped, lowering her tone so that the other two witches in the room couldn’t hear her.

“What?” Amity asked in the same tone, suddenly serious.

“Try not to check my little owlet out in front of me? It’s weird.”

As she turned to reenter the kitchen, Eda could feel, rather than see, the deepening blush on the witch’s face. That begged the question, of course, of whether that was the kettle on the stove hissing or if she could chalk that up to her too.

~---~

“I always liked that outfit on you Amity, but I never realized how well it would go with that shade of red.”

“Is it absolutely necessary to antagonize me any more than Eda already has, Miss Park?”

“Hey, you can’t tell me that you didn’t notice the look you got from her,” Willow replied, chuckling, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lost for words.”

“Am I missing something?” Augustus asked, chuckling nervously.

In response, the other two witches in the room locked him with practically identical looks of exasperation. Amity swore she could see the gears turning in his head. Finally, a light dawned in his eyes.

“Oh, you  _ like _ Luz, don’t you Amity?” he finally asked, a wide grin splitting his features. Willow placed a hand on his shoulder, suddenly solemn.

“Congratulations on joining the rest of the Isles, Mr. Porter.”

“Hey, you know I don’t have a clue when it comes to this stuff.”

“You and me both,” Amity replied, sitting with a huff in her usual spot. The ancient, yet somehow still comfortable armchair sagged beneath her. If she pushed hard enough, maybe it would swallow her whole, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about embarrassing herself ever again. Then again, if it did swallow her, there was a non-zero chance that she’d end up in Hooty and, well, that  _ wasn’t _ an option.

“I’m starting to think that most people don’t understand these sorts of things,” Willow said mournfully, “and we’re all just fumbling around in the dark until we sort of figure it out.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, as Amity turned her friend’s words over in her head. Maybe she was right? Maybe everyone had issues with this sort of thing, and she wasn’t the only one? Then again...

“Maybe we’re just the exceptions,” Amity suggested, musing on her thoughts out loud.

“You guys are such a bummer sometimes,” Augustus muttered in response.

“What does that even mean?” Willow asked, suddenly exasperated.

“If you’d read my last batch of notes, you would know!”

There was another moment of silence, this time marked by tension, before Amity, despite herself, burst into laughter. Both of them looked at her, still tense and mid-argument, but something about the sight of her must have broken the spell, because they soon followed. Pretty soon, all three of them were overwhelmed by that sort of wheezing, chest-hurting laughter that only arose out of tension. That break in the facade that sends the whole thing cascading down. Willow was the first one to rein herself in, turning to Gus as she did so.

“If it really means that much to you, I’ll read your notes.”

“Nah,” he replied, “you don’t have to. Now that I’ve got a reliable source, I realize how wrong I was on pretty much everything.”

“So Luz was as helpful as you expected?” Amity asked, curious.

“More, even. Turns out there’s this whole weird set of subcultures built around different ways of sharing images. It’s a lot, but it’s so interesting! Like, there was this entire period where everyone was arguing over what colors this dress was…”

Amity heard Willow sigh in mock exasperation as Augustus launched into a long-winded explanation about something that really did not make sense without the pictures it was referencing, but they both humored him. She felt a sudden motion in her lap as a grumbling King curled up in it.

“By all means, you little gremlin,” she muttered to him as he made himself comfortable. In response, he muttered something that could have resembled “your fault” if he hadn’t buried his snout under his legs.

“What was that?” she asked quietly, careful not to indicate to Augustus that she wasn’t  _ really _ listening.

“I was perfectly comfortable until you rolled into the room,” he replied, causing pink to retouch her cheeks. That particular stunt was already added to the long list of crimes she’d bring Hooty to task for someday. As soon as she could figure out a banishment spell strong enough, he’d be back in whatever pit he slithered out of.

Absentmindedly, she began stroking the fur between King’s shoulders, earning a sigh of contentment from the diminutive demon. At least he was easy to figure out. If only all of her problems could be solved by petting them.

The sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs indicated that one such problem was pushing its way back to the fore. Amity took a moment to mentally prepare herself (knowing it was useless), but it still wasn’t enough. As her eyes locked on Luz, she felt a small, pitiable whine that she hoped to the Isles was anything but audible build in the back of her throat.

_ It just wasn’t fair. _

She’d read stories where the princess would glide down the stairs with such elegance that it took their suitor’s breath away. Luz sort of… bounded, and it still had the same effect. Each and every detail of her outfit cemented itself in Amity’s mind as she desperately avoided looking at her face. She hadn’t changed much, really. Her old, beat-up jeans replaced with a nicer pair. Her t-shirt with a button down flannel, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Taking a breath, she let her eyes drift to Luz’s face, and she found a brown pair meeting her own.

_ She’d ditched the beanie _ , which was about the only cohesive thought that ran through her mind. Of course, that just made her realize that she’d put her hair up. Wonderful. Nothing that could be described as a bun, really more of a quick tie-up, but the way a few strands hung messily around her head did something to Amity’s breathing that she was fairly certain wasn’t healthy. 

Before she could muster the wherewithal to say something, Luz had already crossed the distance between them, further exacerbating her situation, coming to a stop a few feet away and bouncing slightly on her heels. Was she waiting for her to say something? Why had she immediately come over to her? Could  _ she _ hear the blood pounding in her ears, or was that more of a personal thing?

“You alright  _ brujita _ ?” Luz asked quietly. Amity felt something in her shift at the way her voice curled around the nickname.

“Fine,” she responded, hating the way her voice pitched up at the end, “Doing great really. How about you?”

_ Titan take her now. _

Luz chuckled, the sound of it low and something other than humorous. “Better now,” she replied, that same tone causing some of the blood pounding in Amity’s head to divert to her cheeks. Desperately, regretting it almost immediately, Amity flashed a look to Willow, looking for help, but her face was practically lit up with amusement. Over  _ her _ shoulder, Augustus flashed her a thumbs up, and she felt the blush deepen, because apparently that was possible.

Her attention flashed back to the human in front of her, who was leaning towards her for some reason. Amity’s mind flashed through about a dozen possibilities in an instant, but thankfully she’d finally reached terminal blush, so it wasn’t like her face could get any redder. Of course, since the universe hated her, her ears started wiggling ever so slightly. As her hand reached towards her, Amity briefly contemplated the possibility of using a spell to eject herself out the window, but instead she felt a strange mix of relief and jealousy as Luz’s hand found the spot between King’s shoulders where she’d been rubbing a few moments ago. Which, really, was totally unfair, because maybe  _ she _ wanted pets, and how dare that little gremlin get them instead.

_ Which, you know, was a totally normal thought to have as a near-adult witch. _

Luz straightened up, catching her eye as she did, and  _ grinned  _ with that same honest joy that normally took Amity’s breath away. Strangely, miraculously, she felt her blush begin to fade. She could do this, she realized. She could be a functional person.

“You look nice,” she managed to stammer out, growing more confident as she went, “I like what you did with your hair.”

To say that she felt triumph rush through her veins as Luz actually  _ blushed  _ at something she’d said, rather than the other way around, well, that would be the understatement of the  _ century _ . Of course, that meant that Luz had to do something to one-up her.

“ _ Bueno, me gusta todo de ti, así que estamos empatados _ ,” she replied, which Amity did not understand a word of (seemed like she still wasn’t over that, either), but still managed to twist that same knob somewhere inside of her and double her heart rate.

“You know I didn’t understand a word of that,” she replied, managing to work a teasing tone into her voice.

“That’s why I said it the way I did,” Luz responded in kind. There was a distinctively snarky, uncharacteristic tone to her voice as she did so. Well, if that’s how she was going to play this game, Amity would rise to the challenge. She opened her mouth to say something that she was sure would win their little match of wits, only to be rudely interrupted by a knock at the door.

_ She just had to tempt fate, right? Had to invoke the Titan? _

Sure enough, as she turned and peeked over the back of the armchair, she could make out a trio of familiar voices. Looking back at Luz, seeing the recognition on her features as well, Amity knew that history’s habit of repeating itself was firmly in motion. Surprisingly, the human glanced back at her, an unspoken question in her eyes. Amity set her jaw before nodding. They were going to come in one way or another, might as well embrace it.

Luz nodded back, the faintest hint of sadness crossing her features as she pulled away from Amity and crossed the short distance to the door. She turned back to the room one last time, coaching her face into a wide smile, before she swung the door open. Standing there, of course, were her siblings. What surprised Amity in that moment is the fact that they weren’t alone. Standing between them, though keeping a safe distance from Hooty, as any reasonable person would, was the last person she’d expected to see tonight.

~---~

Luz froze for a moment before bursting into laughter and all but tackling Lilith as she attempted to step around the  _ owl thing _ and into the living room. Edric and Emira stepped aside to accommodate, though not before the former caught sight of Amity. His face lit up in time with her own, though for completely different reasons. 

“It’s good to see you too Luz,” Lilith squeezed out, wrapped as she was in what Amity knew was a deceptively tight hug, “I trust you’ve made yourself comfortable in your return to the Isles.”

Luz pulled away from her, and Amity laughed internally at the sudden sheepishness that marked her mentor’s features. She couldn’t see the expression on the human’s face, but it had to have been quite something to quell Lilith.

“You know,” Luz began, a teasing tone to her voice, “you don’t have to be so formal all the time. We camped together, after all. I’ve seen you really lose it, and it was awesome.”

“Yes, well that was under duress,” Lilith responded, extricating herself from Luz’s grasp and using a hand to (thankfully) close the door, sending the screeching voidspawn with it. “I am not typically prone to, as you put it, ‘losing it’ in such a manner.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to be formal Lilith when you come over anymore,” Luz huffed.

“Is that a demand from the vanquisher of the Emperor?” Lilith asked, a tone of utter solemnity to her voice.

“If it was, would you listen to me?”

“Without question.”

Amity could see Luz’s shoulders tense a bit as she turned Lilith’s response over in her head. Finally, she shrugged.

“Then I demand it, O protector of the Isles,” she proclaimed, affecting some unknowable accent that Amity knew she put on when she wanted to sound fancy.

“As you wish, my esteemed companion,” Lilith responded, surprising her by putting on the exact same accent. Incredulous, Amity glanced at each of her siblings in turn, who seemed absolutely delighted by the sudden turn of events.

“I thought I heard some unwelcome newcomers in my living room,” came a new voice from the kitchen doorway. Eda stood there, bowl in hand, as she glanced out over the room in question. 

“Edalyn,” Lilith responded, by way of acknowledgment, “I happened to be on my way home when these two vagrants,” she said, gesturing to Edric and Emira, who feigned offense as she did so, “accosted me and demanded I come to dinner. We were most of the way here before they informed me that none of us had actually been invited, so I apologize for the intrusion.”

“ _ Lilith _ ,” Luz toned warningly, “you made a promise!”

“I swore on nothing, child, but I will do my best to be less… formal.”

“Gees kid, doing things I never could already,” Eda remarked, “maybe I should be learning from you.” She picked the spoon back up out of the bowl, using it to point at her student. “Still,” she continued, “you were supposed to come help me in the kitchen after you were done, and I’m especially going to need that help now that we’ve got more mouths to feed.”

“Right,” Luz said, smacking her forehead, “totally forgot about that. My bad!” She turned away from the rest of them, letting her hair down and retying it as she went. Amity strategically attempted to look elsewhere as she did so, and succeeded for the most part, but it was no use - she glanced up, and with the number of eyes now in the room with her, it was a near certainty that she’d been caught. Sure enough, as Edric walked around the couch and settled down between Augustus and Willow, he tossed her a wink to let her know she hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

Lilith followed Luz into the kitchen, but not before sparing a glance for Amity as well, flashing her a curious smile and a raised eyebrow as she went. Emira, for her part, settled into the armchair opposite her. She pulled out her scroll as she fell into the chair, tapping away at it (as usual) rather than engaging with the world around her. Or, she did until she was sure that Lilith was firmly out of sight. The moment she was, her siblings locked eyes, and Amity prepared herself for the bombardment.

“So?” Emira asked, surprising her by turning to Willow rather than herself. 

“Absolutely smitten, both ways,” she responded, finally letting her composure crumble and laughter bubble through. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” she added, just to really drive the spike home. “Oh, and by the way, Gus wants in on the bet.”

“Hey!” Edric exclaimed, reaching out and ruffling Augustus’ hair, “you finally clued into what was going on?”

Gus nodded, sheepish, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Amity had the distinct impression of being some kind of farm animal on auction as he counted out a hundred snails and passed them over to Emira, earning appreciative nods from both twins.

“Alright then, Mr. High Roller,” Emira quipped, laughing, “what’s your bet?”

Augustus looked back at Amity, laughing, but must have been quelled a bit by the incandescent rage that was undoubtedly expressed on her features, because he only managed to stutter out his response.

“Two months, Luz first.”

“Quite the strong bet, Mr. Porter, a very strong bet indeed,” Edric joked, adopting the same accent Luz and Lilith had been tossing back and forth earlier.

“You can’t just take bets on me!” Amity shouted, controlling her tone just enough to not alert certain individuals in the kitchen.

“Oh Amity,” Edric sighed, chuckling.

“Vice stops for no one,” Emira continued, shaking her head.

“And when you see a golden opportunity like this one, you have to take it,” Edric finished, leaning back against the couch. 

“Someday, I’m just going to snap,” Amity replied, voice dangerously calm, “and the only thing I’ll have to worry about after is mustering enough magic to have my abominations dig a series of six-foot holes.”

Augustus, Emira, and Edric at least did her the decency of looking suitably terrified at the threat, but Willow just glanced back at her, adjusting her glasses as she did so. “You’re good Amity,” she admitted, “but you’re not that good.”

“We’re all just joking around here, right?” Augustus asked nervously.

“Of course we are bud,” Edric assured, “and even if we aren’t, me, you, and Em here are all expert illusionists. If it comes down to it, we’ll just vanish ourselves and let good old Willow handle our dear sister’s psychotic break.”

“Or,” Emira interjected, “we could just have Luz, I don’t know, whisper sweet nothings in her ear or something. That should calm her down.”

“Or rile her up,” Willow added, eyes still locked on Amity.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that I actually died in my sleep last night, and this is just my personal form of neverending torment,” Amity replied, weary, but somehow finding humor in her situation.

“It’s very possible, Mittens,” Emira responded, “except for one key factor.”

“And what would that be, Emira?”

“You should have seen the look that she gave you when you were ever so subtly looking anywhere other than at her.” Emira brought both of her legs up and over the arm of the chair, tossing a casual glance back at her sister as she did so. “It filled my soft sapphic heart with joy to see that positively  _ scandalous  _ look she tossed your way. Though I suppose she could have just been  _ really  _ looking forward to cooking.”

_ Yep, definitely in hell. _

Amity buried her head in her arms as laughter rang out around her from all sides, desperate to escape the fate the Isles had seen fit to place upon her. Still, as embarrassed as she was, she couldn’t help but feel something else. Faint, but certainly present. See, she knew Emira as well as she knew herself, and she especially knew her tells. That’s why Edric always got passed the buck when they  _ really  _ needed to trick her. And the thing was, she  _ hadn’t  _ been lying.

Which was going to make getting through dinner without embarrassing herself any further an absolutely insurmountable task, but so be it.

_ At least she got to be in the light. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a bit longer of a delay than I intended when I said it was going to take longer than expected, but finals being finals, I suppose it was inevitable. Hopefully, this offering of a longer chapter written and edited during my study breaks will suffice to tide you over. The craziest thing is, it's actually the second-to-last chapter in this arc! How the time flies. More information on what that entails for our story next time, but suffice it to say, I'm having a blast with this story, and I've got the next eight or so chapters after it in various stages of planning. When I said buckle up, I meant it. This is very likely going to be a long ride.


	10. Comienzo

Luz had never known her  _ Abuela _ . She’d been forced to stay behind when her mother made the trip to the States, and by the time she’d saved up to bring her over, she’d been too sick to make the journey. Still, Luz liked to think that she lived on in the little sayings and phrases that her mother would pull, seemingly out of nowhere whenever a bit of grandmotherly advice was needed. Every little issue or major dilemma seemed to have a bite of wisdom that went with it. Over the years, she’d picked up quite a few.

So, as she gazed down at the bowl in front of her which held what could only be described as an Isles version of  _ sancocho _ , she searched for some of that same wisdom to help guide her. It certainly smelled good, though there was a certain… oddness to it. The sort of difference that only became clear after you took a second, closer look. Or, in this case, a second whiff. She was painfully aware of the way the seconds were passing, of how little time she had before the exaggerated motions of settling against the arm of one of the armchairs while keeping herself from spilling the bowl could be interpreted for what they really were; hesitation.

See, Luz didn’t know everything about the Isles, but she had a pretty good grasp on what it  _ didn’t _ have. Cows, chickens, pigs, corn, beans, just to say a few, all of which were, as she was keenly aware, vital ingredients in the soup that was on her lap. The same soup that had played a pivotal role in a childhood spent with a mom who had a hard schedule and only a wicked mastery of a crock pot to keep it at bay. In fact,  _ sancocho _ had been another thing her mom had inherited from her  _ Abuela _ , and the irony of searching for wisdom from a woman she’d never met while she stared at what she’d been told was her signature dish was not lost on her. At least the universe had a sense of humor.

Unable to delay any longer, she glanced up at Eda, noticing in the carefully coached expression that failed to hide her mentor’s excitement. There was nothing else for it, so she took a breath, said a little prayer, and spooned a bit into her mouth. 

That same sense of familiarity was the first thing that took her. Then, again, that odd edge to it. Something not quite being right. Whatever replacements Eda had found were surprisingly close, but still obviously replacements. Still, she’d tried, clearly, to get it as close as possible, and it couldn’t have been easy. As Luz swallowed, the right phrase came to her.

_ Para una madre, el esfuerzo y el amor son lo mismo. _

“For a mother, effort and love are the same,” Luz whispered to herself, far too quiet for anyone else to hear. Sure, it  _ wasn’t _ perfect, but the fact that it was  _ this close _ , when everything Luz had ever tried to cook here had either caught fire or tried to eat  _ her _ first, well, it was practically a miracle. So rather than psych herself out, she scooped another spoonful into her mouth. And another.

She spared Eda another glance after her third or fourth go, and was delighted to see that she’d started eating as well, though even  _ she _ wasn’t a skilled enough actor to hide the genuine smile her features had settled into.

Past Eda, Luz let her gaze drift around the rest of the attendees of their little impromptu get together, scattered as they were around the living room. Normally, they’d have sat around the dining table, but both due to numbers and the stack of dishes that threatened to entomb anyone who upset their delicate balance, they’d opted for the living room instead. Apparently taking the cue from her and Eda, everyone else had dug into their bowls, and the noises of appreciation and surprise confirmed her suspicions. This wasn’t just a case of overlapping cultures. Eda had somehow managed to find a  _ sancocho  _ recipe in her travels and managed to make a pretty good copy with ingredients from the Isles.

Luz tucked back into her bowl, intent on not letting the gesture go to waste. She let herself get lost in the overlapping conversations of a family joining in a good meal, the wide grin crossing her face the only indication of her swelling heart. Finally, as she finished, she looked towards Eda one more time, and caught her in the middle of staring back at her, an expression on her face that Luz had only seen on two other people in her life. She met the smile with her own, taking heart in the way the witch’s features softened.

“ _ This is really good _ ,” she mouthed, knowing that her voice wouldn’t carry across the room. Eda gestured towards the kitchen in response, and as she got up, Luz followed.

“It’s not too different from what you’re used to?” She asked once they stepped through the archway, leaving Edric’s impression of a particularly unfortunate witch he’d encountered in the market earlier behind.

“It’s great Eda,” Luz replied, pushing herself up onto the counter, “I honestly have no idea how you got it so close to my mom’s.”

“That’s because it’s her recipe,” Eda responded, chuckling to herself as she took Luz’s bowl from her. Surprised, Luz nodded as the witch gestured towards the still bubbling pot - practically a cauldron - that sat on the stovetop. 

“How’d you get her recipe?” Luz asked, mystified. Eda ladled another serving of soup into her bowl before passing it back to her.

“She sent it ahead with one of the last letters you sent my way,” Eda remarked, glancing at her own bowl as she did so. She seemed on the fence for a moment, then shrugged before ladling herself another serving. “She didn’t give any instructions, but the intention was pretty clear,” she continued, smirking at the thought.

“Yeah, she can be like that sometimes,” Luz admitted.

“I’ve noticed.”

“Like I said, it’s super good though! I’m honestly kind of nervous to ask what you used instead of beef though…”

“We’ve got something pretty similar up on the Shoulder,” Eda replied between spoonfuls of soup, “We call them aurochs. Big suckers, but that just means there’s more meat on their bones.”

“The name sounds familiar,” Luz responded, trailing off as she searched for the reason why. Probably something she’d learned for a test and immediately forgotten after. 

“Apparently they’re from your side originally, but it doesn’t seem like any are still kicking these days.”

“That’s probably it,” Luz conceded. “Corn and potatoes?”

“Picked those up from your side of the fence. They keep pretty well.”

“Fair enough. How about the chicken?”

“That was the easiest part,” Eda replied, surprising her, “chickens are from  _ our _ side of the fence.”

“They are?” Luz asked, incredulous.

“Oh yeah, we got rid of a bunch of them way back when. Sent them over with the giraffes. But they’re crafty little creatures. They hid out for a while, got dumb, but once people realized how tasty they were, a few people started raising them for food.”

“What do you mean by ‘got dumb?’”

“Well, originally they were demons, and then they just sort of... forgot.”

“How does an entire species of demons just forget how to think?”

“Dunno, but I’m glad they did. One of the old laws that Lily brought back is that you can’t eat anything that can think for itself, and those things are damned tasty.”

Luz glanced down at her bowl, suddenly far less concerned about making Eda happy and far more concerned about the state of her immortal soul. Which, considering the fact that she was coming to live in the place she was pretty sure had inspired hell, was probably forfeit anyways, if any of the rest of that was real. Jury was still out. She’d mentioned angels once, in passing, and Eda had gotten real quiet. Just told her to never mention it to anyone else in the Isles. So something was up there.

She was saved from having to make any big, theological decisions under Eda’s scrutiny by the arrival of Lilith, bowl in tow. Eda nodded her head towards the cauldron, but Lilith shook her own, instead placing it in the sink.

“Thank you for the meal, Edalyn,” she said as she turned to regard the pair of them, “It was sorely needed. I can’t recall having eaten anything since this morning.”

“No worries Lily, I’ll just add it to your tab.”

“Eda!” Luz chided, laughing.

“What,” she replied, joining in, “I’m about ready to go take collections. I don’t remember signing up to host the whole merry band tonight.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying every minute of it,” Lilith countered, a wan smile crossing her face, “you know I can tell the difference.”

“You can’t tell a thing, Lily,” Eda replied, a faint, (hopefully) joking growl to her tone.

“Oh really? Then tell me Edalyn, why has your hair been puffed out since the moment I arrived with the twins?” Eda flagged a bit under that one, and Luz could tell Lilith had struck true with it. “Better yet, up until a moment ago, I don’t think you’ve stopped smiling at any point in the past three days. Between you and Amity, I’m not sure who’s…” Lilith trailed off at that one, turning a faint pink as she suddenly seemed to recall that Luz was still in the kitchen with them.

“Careful Lily,” Eda teased, “wouldn’t want to betray anyone’s confidence, would we?”

“I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure you don’t.”

“Well,” Luz began, setting her half-empty bowl on the counter next to her, “I’m just going to go then…”

“Go ahead kid,” Eda responded, “Lily and I need to talk about some things anyways.”

“Ooh, anything cool?” Luz asked, suddenly curious.

“Nah, not really. Just a bit of politics. I’m sure you’ll hear about it eventually.”

“ _ Eda… _ ” Luz complained, eyes pleading.

“Nope, lips are sealed. Why don’t you go entertain the troop of guests you dragged into my house?”

“Fine, I guess I’ll let you have your super-secret, adult conversation about the fate of the world and everything in it,” Luz groaned, earning a raised eyebrow from Eda. She grinned as the witch shook her head, tossing a wave to Lilith and getting a (super serious) nod from her as she went.

Stepping out into the living room, navigating past an Emira loaded down with bowls, Luz glanced at the armchair she’d been sitting against. Amity looked up from her conversation with Willow and Gus as she stepped into the room, the sight of her forcing her to make a decision. Waving as she went, ignoring the curious expression on the green-haired witch’s face, Luz swung around the railing and up the stairs.

~---~

She found the case exactly where she’d leaned it against the wall after Amity had levitated her bags up. Taking the case by the handle, she set it on her bed, flipping the latches and pulling it open as she did. She glanced around for a light switch for a moment before remembering that she wouldn’t find one. Instead, she crossed the room to her desk. If she didn’t have light, she would make it. Funny how magic worked that way.

Like the rest of the furniture in the room, it was horribly mismatched - in this case, a bulky thing of rounded edges and worn woodwork that might’ve been cleaned and dried recently but still definitely looked like it had been at the bottom of the ocean for the better part of a century. In other words, it was incredibly cool and absolutely the sort of thing you’d want to draw magic glyphs on. Which is exactly what she did, scratching out a light glyph with a practiced motion. The next part was her favorite though. With the faintest  _ push _ \- a sort of imagined, mental breath into the paper - the sketched rune began to glow. Paper crinkled and drew in on itself, as if burning away, steadily blooming into a bulb of radiance that drifted a few feet above her head, but came to a stop, hovering where she willed it.

The singular light cast the room into sharp relief. Shadows stretched and loomed all about, their depths hiding every nook and cranny. Luz took a moment to revel in the fact that she could scratch out any number of glyphs and call forth real, literal magic as easily as breathing. God, how she’d missed it. Her chest trembled again, ever so slightly, surprising her. When had she gotten so emotional?

Remembering why she’d lit the glyph in the first place, she returned to her bedside, gazing down at the guitar that rested in its case. The wood had a warm, cheery glow to it from the orb that she’d let drift about the room, carried by some unseen wind. Luz sat and pulled the guitar from its case, setting the latter on the floor and resting her foot on top of it as she placed the body of the instrument on her lap. She took a moment to run her left hand over the familiar surface, the fingers of her right settling into a familiar position on the neck. Pressing lightly, she strummed with her left, running through a few chords. It needed only a few adjustments before settling into the warm, rich tone she’d been looking for.

The sensation of nylon against her fingers always had a habit of bringing a flood of memories back, and she let herself get carried away by it. Without any deliberate thought, the first notes of an old favorite plucked their way across the strings, and she closed her eyes, letting it flow through her. Long before she’d been able to will light and magic into existence with paper and ink, she’d coaxed something just as beautiful from something far less fantastical. It had an enchantment of its own in the subtle intonations and voicings of a familiar song played well. She realized, long after she’d started, that she’d been singing along to the music, and as she caught herself, she chuckled as the last few words left her lips.

“ _...can’t help falling in love with you. _ ”

More than usual, she felt the emotion that song always carried for her. The hope of it, but also the sadness. Strangely, with a flash, almost like lightning, she felt an unfamiliar sense of wonder too. Of confusion? But that didn’t feel like...

The sound of cloth brushing against wood brought her back to the present, her eyes darting open and catching upon a familiar figure in the doorway. A heat entirely separate from the light touched her face at the expression on Amity’s; the soft smile that quickly gave way to a deepening blush at being caught staring. Luz desperately attempted to martial some attempt at humor, some sort of joke or deflection to shift the mood, but thoughts left her mind almost as soon as they entered.

“I didn’t realize you could play like that,” Amity said softly, breaking the silence. Luz glanced back at her, at least taking heart in the fact that she was blushing just as hard. If not harder. It was Amity after all.

“It never really came up naturally,” she found herself replying, “and it’s not like I had it with me last time.”

“Could I?...” Amity began, trailing off as her blush deepened.

“Could you what?” Luz asked, letting the faintest tease bleed into her voice. 

“It’s a guitar, right?” Amity asked, taking a few steps closer. “We have something similar here, but I’ve never seen one that looks like that.”

“Do you play?” Luz asked, surprised. Amity shook her head in response, continuing to close the distance between them step by painfully slow step. 

“No,” she replied, breaking Luz’s concentration on her progress, “mother didn’t want my hands to form calluses. Didn’t stop her from insisting that Ed learn how to play violin. Emira and I had to make do with piano and harp.”

“Wow, it’s uh, just the guitar for me,” Luz responded, sheepish. Her eyes drifted back down to the strings, away from Amity’s face. They all played different instruments? How was she supposed to compete with that?

“Who taught you to play?” Amity asked, drawing her back to the conversation. She’d closed a bit more of the distance between them, but had stopped, something still seeming to be holding her back from closing the remainder.

“My uncle taught me a bit, my dad too,” Luz replied, smiling sadly, “but most of it was just listening to songs on repeat until I figured out how to make it work on my end.”

“That’s quite the talent,” Amity whispered. She was close enough to touch now, if Luz only reached out. She was half tempted to do so.

“It’s not that big a deal,” she mumbled instead, “I basically brute-forced my way into it. I can barely read music, and my technique’s probably wrong a dozen times over…” She trailed off as Amity finally sat next to her. Well, maybe “sat” was a strong word. She sort of... perched on the edge of the bed, as if ready to fly away at the first sudden movement. She wasn’t next to her either, not really, but she was sitting on  _ her bed _ , so that was basically the end of cohesive thought as far as Luz was concerned.

“I liked listening to you play,” Amity continued, voice still soft. Luz felt her pulse break a hundred and keep accelerating. Bracing herself, she brought her eyes up to meet Amity’s, brown catching on amber, and the rest of the world seemed to just melt away.

“Play something else for me, please?”

“Of course,” Luz replied, the hoarseness of her voice surprising her. 

Running her hands back over the strings, she plucked out a few notes, running through her options. Each idea being worse than the last, she finally settled on one she’d listened to more times than she’d care to admit when she’d first left the Isles. She made the decision to sing along almost subconsciously, the words leaving her like they’d been forced out. 

_ “I walked across an empty land…” _

She felt, rather than saw Amity tense up beside her as she began, but music for her was the sort of thing that she couldn’t really stop once she started. Thankfully, she eventually relaxed, and Luz let herself get pulled back into the song. Dimly, she was aware that it’d probably be best to keep her voice down, so she pitched it lower than she normally would. Softer. Besides, it wasn’t meant for anyone else. In that moment, lit by a single glyph, she could pretend that the world ended at the edge of the light it cast.

“ _ Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?...” _

She cast a glance to her right, finding Amity leaning slightly further back, her eyes closed as she listened along. The warmth of the light seemed to soften her features, always so sharp, into something younger, more peaceful. Something about it seemed to catch on the brown in her hair, and for a moment Luz could imagine all of it in that hue. The image drew heat to her cheeks, and she turned back to the strings. It wasn’t like she needed to look at them anymore but, well, she did need to focus, and someone was making that difficult.

“ _ I came across a fallen tree… _ ”

The memories took her fully as she slipped deeper into the music. Moments spent wandering the woods, hands reaching out but never meeting. Laughter marked by anxiety, quick glances, given over to blushing. They hadn’t gotten much further, even after all this time. At least she’d finally had the guts to hold her hand. The last thing she’d expected was for the witch to hold on so tightly.

“ _ Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? _ ”

All of that gone in a moment, but the thought of it taking root long before. The subtle, insidious realization that there would be an end to the joy. That eventually, one way or another, she would have to go back. The bone-chilling terror of those moments where she thought that she might not make it back at all. That she’d get her wish and stay in the Isles, become a part of it, but not in the way she’d hoped.

“ _ And if you have a minute, why don’t we go… _ ”

But even after she’d left, it hadn’t really ended. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Words creeping across margins and assurances penned in ink that bloomed between neat rows of text. The only reminder she’d had for so long that she hadn’t dreamed it all. The seventeen seconds that bounded the line between sanity and despair.

“ _ Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? _ ”

The third time, it seemed was the charm, and Luz felt herself pulled out of the dark once again by a voice, this time heard rather than written. Clear and high, practiced and perfect, the complement to her own rasping low. Amity’s voice wove amidst her own, harmonizing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her voice stumbled a bit at the slight change in the lyrics, and trailed off entirely once she entered unfamiliar territory, but the memory of it lingered with Luz through to the last line. 

“ _ Somewhere only we know… _ ”

Silence reigned for a moment that stretched into eternity. Amity seemed as unwilling to break it as she was. Finally, Luz opened her eyes, brown meeting amber once again. The world slowly resolved back into focus, but stopped at the boundary of her face. Each detail etched in crystal clarity, imprinting itself in memory as permanent and solid as stone. Luz knew that she would remember this moment, this instant of connection, for as long as she had memory. Knew it as surely as she knew the practiced motions of her glyphs, as easily as pushing the magic into them.

And when she felt something shift between them, well, for a moment she allowed herself to think that she might remember it for another reason. Her eyes drifted across the witch’s features, coming to a rest at her lips. Neither seemed conscious of it, but Luz realized that the distance between them was closing. That Amity’s eyes were closing as they did. That their noses were brushing against one another.

“ _ Ahem _ ”

Amity flung herself away like she’d been shot out of a cannon. Luz didn’t fare much better, but she at least managed to avoid crushing her guitar as she backed as far away as the wall would allow. Her eyes flashed to the doorway, to the source of the voice that had interrupted, well, whatever  _ that  _ had almost been, and found a thoroughly embarrassed Emira standing there. She spared a quick glance towards Amity, who was doing a spot-on impression of a turtle at that moment, before turning back to her sister.

“I was just,” Emira fumbled, searching for the words, “you know, coming up to say goodbye because Ed and I have to get going soon. But you were singing, and I didn’t want to interrupt, and you sounded really good!” She smiled to punctuate her statement, bringing a hand up before apparently thinking better of it and letting it drop to her side. “So I wasn’t trying to intrude or anything, just, yeah. I’m uh, I’m going to head downstairs and you guys can just make your way down whenever. Yeah.”

Luz watched, numb, as Emira left the doorway. Dimly registered her footsteps as she went downstairs, the voices that drifted up from below. Another glance at her direction confirmed that Amity was still doing her turtle impression. Which really just left one option. Lucky her.

“We,” Luz began, carefully picking each word, “should probably head back downstairs.”

_ “Mmbmm _ ,” Amity replied, the subtle brilliance of her statement stunning to behold. Luz thought she could see the barest hint of her face through her arms, and from what she could make out, it was a  _ worrying  _ shade of red. She picked her away across the bed before finally setting a hand on the witch’s shoulder. She was wholly unprepared for the lightning that crackled up her arm, the sudden shock of emotions that ran through her mind, foreign, though not entirely unfamiliar.

_ Embarrassment, loud and at the fore, but undercut with something else. Shame? No, that wasn’t it. Disappointment maybe? Something else too. Something deeper, harder to grasp. Beneath it all, like some monstrous shape moving beneath still water, was a curling serpent of anxiety that tore the breath from her lungs. _

Luz gasped, and the noise seemed to snap Amity out of whatever state she’d been in. The two of them stared at each other, wide-eyed, as flashes of brown and amber flickered through eyes that had never known their hue before. Amity’s ears all but flattened against her head, her blush deepening into a hue Luz didn’t think possible, and she drew further in on herself.

“What was that?” Luz found herself asking, voice shaky.

“Something that shouldn’t be possible,” Amity whispered back, causing Luz to chuckle nervously.

“That’s pretty ominous,  _ brujita _ , sure you don’t want to elaborate on that?”

Amity gulped, but her ears slowly began to move back to their usual spots, the blush fading ever so slightly. Focus bled into her expression, giving way to confusion, then back to focus, before finally settling on a mix of confusion and realization. 

_ Which was a lot. Like, way more than she should be able to figure out just by watching her. She wasn’t freaking Sherlock Holmes! _

“We’re Bonded,” Amity whispered softly, though, from the tone of her voice, she clearly didn’t believe it herself. Luz tried to dig a bit more, glean another insight from the warring emotions that crossed her features, but she felt that sense of supernatural understanding slipping away like water between her fingers.

“I mean, Gus and Willow are Bonded,” Luz supplied.

“Gus and Willow are  _ witches _ , Luz,” Amity replied, voice sharp. Luz tried not to wince at the sound of it, but she didn’t need some kind of magical sixth sense to see the way the witch’s face softened as she failed. “When two  _ witches _ ,” Amity began, stressing the term, “spend enough time with each other, cast enough spells around one another, their bodies naturally synchronize. With enough time, enough practice, they can communicate without speaking, tune in to each other’s emotions, Titan, some can even share their magic.”

“What do you mean by ‘share their magic?’” Luz asked, curiosity winning out.

“Well, there’s a lot of theory behind that one, but it’s hard to explain. I don’t even know it off the top of my head,” Amity admitted distractedly, “but I’m sure I could find the right books in the library.”

“Well, if it’s just about casting spells around each other, why would it matter if I’m a proper witch or not?”

“Because it shouldn’t be possible for a human to Bond,” Amity responded, “There’s a biological component to it as well. Something to do with the balance of bile and some sort of pheromone. I mean, the Emperor never Bonded with anyone, and some of his lieutenants were with him from the beginning.” She suddenly looked up, eyes wide. “Not that I’m comparing you to him or anything! Titan, you’re nothing like hi-”

“Amity.”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Thankfully, she listened, taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly, evenly. Luz reached out to her, making sure she could see the motion, giving her a way out, before gently resting her hand over Amity’s. The faintest spark of energy, practically a firecracker to last time’s dynamite, passed between them, but no emotion traveled with it. Luz intertwined their fingers, meeting the witch’s eyes with her own. No misplaced eye colors either.

“I suppose,” Amity began, a smile slowly appearing across her face, “that it wouldn’t be the first time you did something you weren’t supposed to be able to do.”

“Does this mean I’ll be able to read your mind eventually?”

“That’s more of an extreme case,” Amity stammered, cheeks fading from red to pink.

“That’s Ed and Em’s thing, isn’t it? They have a super strong Bond, and that’s why they always know what the other is thinking.”

“Not always, but yes. Siblings usually do, twins especially.” Amity looked down at their fingers, and Luz’s heart skipped a beat at the way the smile on her face seemed so full of hope. “I never did though,” she continued, chuckling ruefully, “Some people aren’t able to. I figured I was one of them. That something in me wasn’t put together right.”

“Suppose you were wrong,” Luz responded, squeezing her hand. Amity looked up from it and into her eyes once again. Her light-softened features spread into a full blown grin, and she noticed for the first time that the witch had  _ fangs _ . Like, actual fangs. To be fair, she’d known all witches had them, but somehow she’d never made the connection that “all witches” included Amity as well. Which was, well, it was something to consider if she ever had another shot at what had almost happened.

_ Speaking of which… _

“Now they’re really going to be wondering what’s going on up here,” Luz pointed out, surprisingly not driving the smile from Amity’s face. Instead, it shifted into something entirely different. The sort of thing that sent her stomach into free fall. Amity was  _ smirking  _ at her.

“We wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea, would we?” Amity asked teasingly. Luz gulped but did her best to play along. Why was it the fangs that did it, of all things? Frantic, she searched for an excuse.

“Well, I’ve also got the impression that this was something Eda planned for a while, so it’d be pretty rude to be up here the whole time.”

“Fair point,” Amity conceded, pushing herself up from the bed but not letting go of Luz’s hand in the process. She let the witch pull her to her feet as well, turning only to grab her guitar before giving into the light pressure that pulled her towards the door. Halfway to the stairs, just before their shoes would be visible to anyone in the living room, Amity suddenly turned back towards her. Catching her eyes one last time, Luz saw a brief flash of mischief cross the witch’s features before she was suddenly closing the distance between them. Stretching ever so slightly to reach her face, Amity leaned in and lightly pressed her lips to Luz’s cheek, lingering for a moment before she pulled away.

“Do me a favor?” she whispered. Luz hung on to her every word.

“Sure,” she managed to rasp out.

“Don’t mention this to anyone until I know what we’re dealing with?”

“You don’t want to ask Eda or Lilith for advice?”

“I’d rather figure it out myself,” Amity replied, “Besides, it feels a bit too... personal a thing to bring other people into, you know?”

“Personal, huh?” Luz asked, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“As you wish.”

“If you two are done flirting,” a familiar voice called up from below, “I would like to see my kid a little bit tonight.”

“Told ya,” Luz whispered, blushing slightly at being caught.

Amity stepped back, and Luz immediately missed the warmth. That same sense of loss only deepened when Amity unlaced their fingers, but she at least tossed her another genuine smile to make up for it. As they descended the stairs, Amity tossed a few barbs at her siblings where they stood by the front door. They responded in kind, and soon the three of them were back at it again. 

Luz let them have their moment, crossing the room to sit down on the floor between Eda and Willow, both of whom gave her knowing glances that she pointedly ignored.

“Didn’t realize it took that long to tune a guitar, kid,” Eda quipped, “but you’d know better than I would.”

“Hey, you can’t rush perfection,” Luz replied, meeting Eda’s snark with her own. That earned a proper laugh from her mentor, who leaned back in her chair and gestured for her to go on.

“Doesn’t help when you’re distracted, either,” Willow added, earning another laugh from the Owl Lady. Luz scowled at her (supposed) friend, and she held her hands up in response, backing off.

Clearing her thoughts, Luz let them drift back to that moment at the top of the stairs and smiled softly. The fingers of her left hand drifted over her cheek before they found the strings. Her eyes caught her muse, and she began to play.

“ _ Si me callo, voy a de a poco… _ ”

~---~

Long after everyone had left, each braving the night to return to their respective homes, Luz sat on her bed, carefully placing her guitar in its case. One latch closed after another, she set it in the spot she’d decided on next to her desk, then returned to her spot. King adjusted himself next to her, his snoozing head now flush to her knee. He’d insisted that she play something “worthy of a great conqueror,” but he’d only made it through the first verse before dozing off. His back slowly rose and fell, and she ran a hand along the fur between his shoulders, laughing softly as he somehow slumped even further into the mattress.

“He’s real menacing, ain't he,” a low voice filtered in from the doorway. Luz looked up to see Eda leaning against the frame, an arm behind her back.

“Absolutely terrifying,” she responded, gesturing at the empty space to her left as she did so. Eda made an exaggerated show of gratitude, bringing one hand in front of her as she bowed before entering the room. Luz, however, was wise to her mentor’s tricks at this point, least of them being misdirection, and she wasn’t nearly as distracted as Eda had probably hoped she’d be. So she noticed when the witch’s other arm never  _ left _ her back, and even if the room allowed for it, most people didn’t face you the entire time they walked towards you. Eda was hiding something, that much was clear, but what?

The mystery only deepened when Eda’s eyes set on one of the globes that floated around her room. The witch’s expression went from mischievous to wistful in a moment, the humor fleeing her features like shadows before the light.

“Eda,” Luz asked, concerned, “everything alright?”

“What?” Eda responded, seemingly caught off guard. “Oh, right, sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve seen your lights in action.” She looked across the room, towards the desktop that Luz had begun to organize. “The last ones faded a few weeks after you left,” she added, as if an afterthought.

Luz let the silence hang for a moment. Her hand absentmindedly continued the little motions she’d been tracing on King’s back, who somehow hadn’t woken up. Eda finally sighed and shook her head, the moment passing. With a muffled thump, she sat down on the bed next to her.

“Right,” she began, turning to Luz, “the reason I came in here in the first place.”

“It wasn’t just to spend time with me?” Luz asked, teasing.

“It’s my house, kid. I can spend time with you whenever I want to. No,” Eda continued, reaching behind her, “the reason I came in here was to give you this.” Bringing her other arm around from behind her, Eda took the object she’d been hiding and passed it over to Luz. It took her brain a few seconds to catch up, but as the details of it slowly settled into the right places in her mind, her excitement spiked somewhere into the stratosphere. 

Because it was a book! Not just any book though. This was the definition of a magical book. All weird gilded leather cover, thick parchment, and metal bindings. Not a book even, a tome maybe? Or a grimoire? What kind of book though? An encyclopedia of arcana? An omnibus of nefarious demonic rituals and otherworldly incantations?

“This,” Eda began, setting a hand on the cover, “is the Codex.”

_ Well, apparently it was the Codex. _

“It contains a little over two-and-a-half years worth of magical study,” Eda continued, pausing for a moment to let the words set in, “Basically, it’s everything I’ve put together on glyphs, runes, and other forms of wild magic since you left. Half of it is stuff I was holding onto but didn’t have much use for until, well, you know. The rest of it are things that Lily and I have dug up from what little records we could find.” 

Eda paused again, tapping the cover to get Luz’s attention back on her. The human just managed to pull her eyes away from the swirling designs on the cover, only to be confronted by the bare intensity of the witch’s stare.

“We’ve copied everything out of it just to be safe, but this is the original copy kid, and it’s all yours. You with me?” 

Luz nodded vigorously, too excited to talk. She was trying to listen, at least, but the longer she went without looking through it, the harder a time she was having with hearing her at all.

“There’s a lot of stuff in here, more than just glyphs, and if I’m being completely honest, some of it’s way beyond your skill level, but you know we don’t exactly play things safe around here.”

_ You could say that again... _

“I’ll tell you this though, I’ve successfully managed to pull off every spell in this book one way or another.”

“Well, you’re the Owl Lady,” Luz replied, chuckling, not really paying attention, “so I’m sure it wasn’t that difficult.”

“Kid, I never said I cast them before you left.”

Silence settled between them as Eda’s words slowly set in. Luz felt her breath catch in her throat as the realization hit her.

“So you mean?...”

“I can’t be sure,” Eda interjected, “and Lily thinks some of the bigger things rely on a connection to the Isles that you really only get from being born here, but yeah, if I can do these spells without any bile to my name, there’s a real good chance that you can too.”

“That’s… That’s incredible Eda! Can we start now? I mean, I could try this one,” Luz shouted, flipping to a page and reading it as fast as she could, “Apparently, it lets you summon objects across any distance by chaining them together with paired glyphs. I could get a bunch of swords and hide them around the Isles, and then I could just hold my hand out and summon a sword, and whoever was on my bad side wouldn’t know what hit them!”

“I love your energy kid, but how about we think a bit smaller first?” Eda replied, reaching out and turning the page back to the first chapter. Luz immediately recognized the six glyphs she knew already, but there were another half a dozen that were completely new to her as well. “We’ll have plenty of time to work through whatever plots you can come up with in the future. For now, we have to make sure your basic skills are up to snuff before we move on to anything crazy.”

“Eda,” Luz began, turning as she pulled her cloak up and around her shoulders, “I defeated the single-most powerful witch who ever walked the Isles. I think I can handle a couple new spells.”

“Oh, Ms. Bigshot over here, huh?” Eda replied, “Well why don’t we just put that to the test then?”

“Test?” Luz asked, trying and failing to hide the sudden wariness in her tone.

“If you think you’re so good, how’s about you and I duke it out tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Yep. I ironed out the details with Lily and your little troop earlier. You know, while you were up here serenading baby Blight?”

“That’s not what we wer-”

“Nope, don’t want to hear what goes on in here. I sound-proofed the room for a reason.”

“You did what?”

“Not important,” Eda replied, characteristic smirk cutting across her features, “But what  _ is _ important is the fact that the Isles haven’t gotten any safer. If anything, without that damned tyrant and his dogs guarding the place, every two-bit demon with delusions of grandeur is hellbent on taking his spot.” Her mentor’s expression suddenly went serious, the humor not so much bleeding out as it did puff away like smoke. “So you tell me kid, who do you think the first person they’re going to want to go through is if they want to prove they’re stronger than he ever was?”

“ _ Sí, sí. Hiciste tu punto _ ,” Luz responded, feeling her confidence puff away with Eda’s humor.

“I’m going to assume that means you get what I’m saying,” Eda replied, not even bothering to pretend it was a question.

“I do, but I don’t get why you had to ‘iron out details’ with everyone else,” Luz replied worriedly, “I don’t see how an audience is going to help either of us.”

“Who said anything about an audience? Demons, monsters, witches, you’ll be dealing with them all, and it just so happens that your friends cover enough of the gamut that they’ll make for good enough replacements for the real things.”

“So what, it’s some kind of tournament arc?” Luz asked, immediately curious.

“I have no idea what that is,” Eda replied, “but we’re basically going to throw the best each of us can do at you, one after the other, until you either lose or learn how to overcome it.”

“Gotcha. Tournament arc.”

“Hey, whatever you’ve got to call it kid,” Eda responded.

“How is that the one reference you haven’t gotten yet?”

“Kid, if I don’t know about something from your side of the fence, chances are it’s not that important in the first place. Regardless, I need to know that you understand how serious this is.”

Luz looked back up at the sudden shift in Eda’s tone. It wasn’t gruff, bossy Eda, or even annoyed, about to shift into maximum snark overdrive Eda. She was… worried? Luz hadn’t heard that particular tone in a while.

“Listen, Luz, I made your mom a promise. I gave her an oath,  _ on my power _ , to do everything in my power to protect you, and this is a part of that.” For the first time, well, ever, Eda was the one who reached out and pulled Luz into a hug. She still wasn’t very good at it, but the gesture of it made Luz’s eyes water up immediately.

“More importantly, I don’t know what  _ I  _ would do if something happened to you. So I’m going to be tough on you. Tough as I can be. And you better be ready.”

“I will, Eda,” Luz responded, wanting to say more, to make her realize how much it meant to hear her say that, but instead just trusting that she got the idea. If the way she pulled her in even closer was any indication, she did.

“Good,” Eda replied, pulling away as she conspicuously drew a hand across her face, “because I didn’t put all this time and money into you just for you to go and get offed by some no-namer with a grudge and a lucky shot.”

“ _ Yo también te quiero, Eda. _ ”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever that means,” Eda responded, waving her away as she pulled herself off the bed. “Now, you need your sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Eda crossed the room, picking up King as she headed towards the door. She seemed to consider something for a moment, chuckling, before turning over her shoulder to regard her student one last time.

“Glad to have you back kid. Place just wasn’t the same without you.”

~---~

As Eda closed the door behind her, Luz let herself slump back onto the bed. Her hands slowly made their way to the back of it, unweaving the messy updo she’d styled it into earlier. That, at least, had proved to be a resounding success, if the look on Amity’s face was anything to go by. Of course, once  _ that _ thought crossed her mind, there was no stopping the deluge that came after it. Moments from the night played through her mind like short little films, every detail ingrained into her psyche.

_ Amity quite literally rolling into the room, flustered and embarrassed, but still absolutely stunning from even that compromised of a position. How tightly she’d clung to her arm as Luz had pulled her up. The sheer exhilaration of seeing her again, of being close to her. _

_ Of the way they’d gotten even closer, of how Amity had asked her to play for her and she’d wanted nothing more than to do so. How they’d come so close to breaking that barrier between them, their lips all but touching, everything unsaid given release. _

_ Or the way that flash of emotion, that Bond, had somehow felt so much more intimate. As if she’d touched Amity’s soul itself, and she hers. The faint thrill that still hadn’t left her from it, and how, even now, she swore she could still feel something just at the edge of her consciousness.  _

But strangely enough, what stayed with her the most out of anything that had happened was that stolen moment at the top of the stairs. How fire had raced across her body from the point where Amity’s lips had brushed her cheek. The welcome but unexpected rush as she’d outright  _ flirted  _ with her.

Luz reverently set the Codex on her nightstand, saving its promises for another day as she stared at the ceiling above her. Her thoughts slowly began to fade away, drawing down to a single point before consciousness left her entirely. Nothing specific. Just this overwhelming sense of warmth, of comfort. Of love.

_ She was home, really home, and that was more than enough to send her into a deep, dreamless sleep, eager to see what the next day held. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap on the first part of our story! This has been such a journey already, and I'm beyond ecstatic that so many of you have joined me on it. Your comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc., are all the motivation I need, but I really cannot express how much it means to me that you've all been so vocal in your enjoyment thus far. Rest assured, there's plenty more where this came from. I'm going to try and keep myself to more of a routine, so you should expect one chapter every 4-5 days, the length varying based upon the needs of the story. That being said, I'm going to take a week or so here to give myself a break from writing, get some things outlined properly, and come back to you all with a much more consistent, well-paced narrative. Until then, I hope everyone is enjoying/enjoys their holiday season, and I look forward to getting back to this as soon as my schedule allows! And as always, thank you.


	11. Lo Que no te Mata

Training, it turned out, started way earlier than it had any right to. Time was weird in the Isles, not quite matching up to what she was used to, but Luz was dead certain it couldn’t have been later than six in the morning as she groggily speared bits of pancake into her mouth. She’d barely had time to acknowledge that they were actually pretty good before Eda had her out in the cool morning air, dressed and standing at attention as the witch carefully looked over the four decks of cards she’d brought with her. 

Luz hadn’t had a chance to ink another blank deck with the levitation glyph she’d learned the day before, but Eda’s face seemed marked by approval as she looked over the ones she’d already drawn. She caught her eye as she finished looking through the fourth and final deck, one eyebrow raised in question, but didn’t push any further. 

“It didn’t seem like a good idea to risk it,” Luz replied, earning a nod from her.

“Hey kid, you know your magic better than I do. If you want to go into things short one glyph, I’m not going to stop you.” Handing her decks back to her, Eda took her staff up and glanced out over the clearing that was the closest thing they had to a yard. As she placed the decks back in the pockets sewn into her cloak, Luz eyed her mentor, gaze darting across the glade, and was reminded of nothing so much as a bird of prey searching for its next meal.

Staff still in hand, Eda strode forward, one of the glyphs carved into its length suddenly flaring to life. With each step, she drove the base into the ground below her, and Luz gasped quietly as the ground ahead of her seemed to flatten and smooth into a near polished surface. What few plants had managed to cling to life in the already well-trodden space simply  _ vanished _ , as if some passing creature had sucked them into the earth. By the time her mentor had made it to the center of the clearing, she was surrounded by a perfectly flat circle about fifty feet across. Though, honestly, it could have been more. Or less. Luz had never been great with distances.

Turning to face her ward, Eda grinned wide, her features splitting into a wolfish grin. It was the exact same look she got before she kicked off one of her schemes. If past experience was anything to go off of, Luz was going to either have the time of her life or end up  _ running  _ for her life. Judging by the way she’d talked the night before, she’d bet money on the latter. Only thing was, if Eda was the one doing the chasing, she wouldn’t get far.

Another glyph burst into golden fire along Eda’s staff, causing each spin she performed with it to leave a burning afterimage in the air. After a moment, bits of the image split off and shot to the edges of the circle before coming to an abrupt halt. There they hung, little fragments of kindled light that held fast against the darkened sky of early morning.

“Right then,” Eda called, the sound of it interrupting Luz’s reverie, “we’re doing this the same way Lily and I used to. Which is to say, the moment you step into the circle, we begin.”

“What are we starting with?” Luz asked, walking to the edge but stopping just before she crossed the boundary.

“Kid, you think someone’s going to tell you what spell they’re hitting you with before they do it?”

“Well, I figured we’d start with warmups or something…” Luz trailed off, seeing the bemused expression on her face, “but I suppose I wouldn’t really get a chance to warm up either, would I?”

“Now you’re getting it,” Eda replied, chuckling low. Slowly, exaggeratedly, she brought both arms over her head, and Luz cringed at the steady chorus of pops and cracks that accompanied the motion. “But like I said, we don’t begin until you step into the circle. My schedule’s cleared, and the rest of the brood isn’t getting here til after dawn. Anything you want to do before you step through is your business.”

“So I could just go back to bed then?” Luz asked, hopeful. Eda’s stare was all the response she needed. Sighing, she nevertheless took the opportunity to do a few stretches, reacquainting herself with the familiar motion of drawing cards from the inside of her cloak to her hand. She fumbled the first few but found her groove soon after. Three simple motions; reach, draw, throw. That was one thing she’d been able to practice back home, even if it just wasn’t the same without the cards catching fire midway through. Still, the cloak was an old friend, and she quickly fell back into the motion. Once she’d replaced the cards, Luz turned back to face her mentor.

_ No time like the present. _

And she stepped into the circle. 

~---~

After the fifth time that her face met dirt, Luz was beginning to realize that training montages weren’t all they were cracked up to be. See, there’s watching it or reading about it happening, but that doesn’t really get the idea across. You’re safe in your seat, wherever that may be, and you’re watching the hero do all the hard work. Which is great, really. You get to skip the boring parts, the author or director still gets the point across that something takes time to learn, and the hero gets to power up. Just a real win-win-win situation. 

_ The thing that never really comes across is how much it hurts to be in the “still learning how to do something” stage. _

It didn’t help that they’d started to accrue an audience, either. Luz had just managed to deflect a particularly nasty earth mote with a well-placed firebolt when she caught the familiar sight of Gus and Willow walking up the path. She realized her mistake a moment too late, and by the time her attention had flicked back to Eda, she was already well on her way into the air by way of an owl-shaped pillar of earth.

Her arc carried her outside of the circle, granting her an excellent view of her friends’ stunned faces as she rocketed towards the ground. It looked like Willow was starting to form a circle, which warmed Luz’s heart, but the now-familiar jerking sensation of Eda’s magic catching her before she hit the dirt was just a bit faster. Luz sighed as, sure enough, her mentor dismissed the spell, letting her apprentice fall the remaining few inches into the ground below.

“Thanks Eda,” Luz mumbled through a mouthful of frost-touched dirt. Groaning, she made to push herself to her feet, only to find a gloved hand thrust in her direction. Smiling sheepishly, she let herself be pulled up. By the strength in it, there was really only one person it could have been, so when she didn’t see Willow standing there, Luz was surprised to say the least. 

“Hey there troublemaker.”

“Viney!” Luz shouted, moving to pull the witch into a hug before remembering that she was covered in dirt. Seeing her hesitation, the witch in question laughed, a welcome respite against the failures the morning had held up to that point, reaching out to her instead and pulling her in, dirt and all.

“You got quite a bit of air there,” Viney teased, pulling away. “Em’s convinced Lowell would have been able to catch you, but he’s still training, and I didn’t want to have to start patching you up already.”

“Emira’s here?” Luz replied, craning to see over the beastmaster’s shoulder. Sure enough, her eyes caught on the familiar figure of the elder Blight outlined against the flank of a brown-feathered griffin, though her attention seemed occupied by her scroll. She tapped at it furiously, a scowl on her features.

“She’s trying to apologize to Amity for last night,” Viney offered by way of explanation, clearing up absolutely nothing in the process.

“Did something happen last night?”

“Did something?...” Viney trailed off, looking her over with an odd glance. “You really can’t think of anything she might be apologizing for?”

Maybe it was the half-dozen hits she’d taken to the head, but for the life of her, Luz couldn’t imagine what the witch might be referring to. Granted, yesterday had been a hectic blur of emotions and reunions, but her memory wasn’t usually that bad. What did Emira have to apologize to  _ Amity  _ for? Unless…

_ Images flashed back to her in an instant. The last notes of a song still hanging in the air of a dimly lit room. Her lips, perilously close to Amity’s. Eyes fluttering shut, distance closing, and then a sound from the doorway… _

“What did she tell you?” Luz whispered, suddenly keenly aware of Eda standing not thirty feet away.

“Only that she interrupted what she was pretty sure was a moment between you two,” Viney responded, smirking slightly. “Serenaded her, huh? Go Luz. Em’s never sung to me, no matter how many times I’ve asked.”

“I wasn’t serenading anyone,” Luz replied, ignoring the way the witch’s smirk widened, “Are you really going to believe Emira on this one?”

“The way I see it, she’s got no reason to lie. It might warm your heart to know that she was sufficiently mortified when she told me though.”

“It’s not that awful of a thing to happen,” Luz mumbled under her breath.

“No, not because of that,” Viney assured her, laughing. “I’m sure she’d be thrilled if  _ that  _ actually happened. Nah, she was upset because she knows exactly how it feels to have a moment ruined.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Luz conceded, “even if nothing like that was happening.”

“Hey, whatever you say bud,” Viney replied, “your business, not mine.”

“Well,” Luz began, desperate to change the subject, “not that I’m not happy to see you, but why exactly are you here? Wait,” she added, a thought suddenly occurring to her, “Eda’s not having you summon beasts to attack me, is she?”

“Not quite, my friend. Our dear Matron insisted that a healer be on hand while Eda puts you through your paces, and seeing how I was available, the stars just happened to align.”

“That’s just her way of keeping her laid-back persona,” Emira interjected, sidling up to the two of them and wrapping her arms around the beastmaster’s midriff from behind. “Truth is, she jumped at the opportunity to see you in action.”

Viney blushed furiously, though whether that was from the proximity to her girlfriend, the truth being revealed, or some combination of the two was anyone’s guess. Bringing a hand up to cover Emira’s, she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Well,” she began, “seeing as I only got to be air support the last time you guys went all out, I figured now was my chance to see it all up close and personal.”

“Hopefully things start to get better,” Luz replied, “because otherwise, you’re just going to be seeing a lot of me getting thrown out of the ring.”

“Things won’t ‘get better’ unless you step back in the ring and get back to work, kid!” Eda called from the center of the flattened circle. Her staff spun menacingly between her fingers, the glyphs along its surface flickering with barely contained power. “As for you, Blight,” she continued, turning to Emira, “don’t you have someplace to be?”

Emira jumped as if she’d been shocked, tossing a sheepish glance and a half-salute Eda’s way before disentangling herself from Viney. The two of them shared a quick kiss goodbye before going their separate ways, a little pang of something hitting Luz’s heart at the sight. She quickly buried the feeling, waving back to Emira as she summoned her staff and took off in the direction of town. Another pair of waves went to Gus and Willow as she strode back into the circle.

“Oh, you’re just walking into the ring then?” Eda asked, curious. “No second-thoughts, no worried glances or ‘strategy breaks.’”

Luz ignored the jibe, barely having enough time to pull a pair of light glyphs from her cloak before the ground just ahead of her erupted, a familiar owlish visage rocketing towards her. She sidestepped its advance, letting her cloaked arm take the brunt of the impact and feeling it immediately lessen as its magic redirected the force away from the squishy bits beneath. 

Taking the momentum from the strike and using it to her favor, Luz spun completely around, flinging the first of her glyphs with the full strength of her shoulder down to her wrist. It was a beautiful throw, really, but the thing she was really proud of was how she’d allowed it to get just past her mentor’s head - an apparent miss - before activating the slightly larger glyph on its surface. 

Close as it was, the sudden burst of light was enough to throw Eda off even from behind, and she quickly followed it with the second card. As that one erupted into light directly ahead of her, Luz punctuated it with a trio of glyphs turned ice shards that her mentor barely managed to stop with a hastily erected shield spell.

The volley had been something she’d ingrained into her memory from countless attempts out behind the shop, but she’d been saving it for something special. Now she just had to close the distance between them, covering her approach with a few more bursts of light, and she might be able to score a point. Her right foot found the earth sure beneath her, and Luz propelled herself towards Eda. 

Just a few more steps. Toss a card, duck under a fireball, sidestep another hooty-shaped pillar of earth. Three more steps. Two more steps.

_ Weightlessness. _

That same levitation glyph from before erupted into life beneath her, the design of it carved into the ground through some subtle work of earth magic that Luz couldn’t even begin to wrap her mind around. Before she could really contemplate its deeper mysteries, it had already tossed her into the air. Way higher than she had before. Griffin-catching height, probably. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, she hurtled towards the ground.

About thirty feet up, her descent slowed considerably, evening out into something that better resembled a steep slide than a sharp drop. She hit the ground with enough force to drive some of the air from her lungs, but not enough to break anything, and rolled to a stop a little way outside of the circle.

“That was good kid,” Eda called out from somewhere behind her, “really good. You actually had me on my back foot there. Give it a few more shots, and you might be able to get more than two moves in.”

Luz knew she didn’t mean it maliciously, but God did it sting to hear her mentor lay it out like that. Especially in front of her friends. Still, that was just the way Eda was. The way she’d always been. Tough love was her specialty. Honestly though, save for a few notable exceptions, there wasn’t one time where it hadn’t paid off for both of them in the end. At the very least, she was unparalleled at guessing limits. Which told her that, no matter how much her body ached, how much her spirit flagged, Eda knew just how far to push her. 

_ So she got back up, and she got back to work. _

~---~ 

After about a week, Eda stopped being able to put her down in three moves or less. Four moves was still a possibility most days, but by the time Luz was really able to hold her own, Eda had switched places with Gus, whom she had admittedly underestimated at first. As it turns out, they  _ don’t  _ just give a staff to anyone. Especially not that early. When it came to Gus, there were really two things working against her.

First, Gus  _ was  _ a prodigy. Thing is, she hadn’t realized quite what that meant until now. Eda had once told her that most witches could work a few dozen spells by the time they graduated, but chose to specialize in the three or four they knew best. Every witch made those spells their own, and by the time they had a few years of experience under their belt, they were barely recognizable as the base incantation they had evolved from. Gus, the terrifying little experimenter that he was, had half a dozen spells to his name that he had tweaked and refined to devastating effect.

Second, even though he couldn’t match her for power, he knew how to eke out every bit of utility from each spell he cast. Just a few quick spins of his staff could shroud the entire battlefield in a dense cloud of cloying, blue smoke that did something to the distance between things. One minute it’d sound like he was miles away, far out of reach, and then the next some illusory monster would be upon her, all gnashing teeth and wickedly sharp fangs, only for him to emerge from the aether and strike the match-ending blow. 

At first, she’d tried to fight the things, knowing all too well that he could do something to make them solid if he wanted to. That had turned out to be a mistake. The moment anything made contact with one of them, they’d burst apart, and Gus would appear out of nowhere, tapping the tip of his staff to her chest and ending it. Each time he’d grin, dismiss the smoke with another cycle of his staff, and explain what she’d done wrong. 

He was patient, insightful, good-natured - a great teacher, really, and Luz had no reason to take it as anything but that. Still, she couldn’t help but see him as the kid he’d been when she’d left. Two years younger and just coming into his own. Outside of his duplicates or basic illusions, she’d never considered him much of a fighter. What a difference those two years had made.

It took her three  _ frustrating _ days before Luz realized the flaw in his strategy. As she crept through the cloud, a pair of cards held ready in her left hand, she heard the faintest whisper of something. Not the guttural growl of some monstrosity he’d called up from some forsaken pit, but a quieter, subtler noise. Muffled under the oppressive miasma of the cloud, but persistent once she knew to listen for it. The quiet tapping of something hitting a pattern against the dirt.

_ Footsteps. Moving in time with the harsh scraping of monstrous claws. _

As the first beast leapt out at her - this time a horrible, dog-like thing with eyes the hue and depth of the void - she sidestepped its attack, snapping her cards at its back as it passed within a hair’s breadth of her side. Sure enough, Gus took the bait, and the second hound that had pounced while its partner had occupied her attention shuddered and resolved into the form of the young witch, face intense as he darted forward, staff held out before him like a spear. Their eyes caught and she reveled in the way his expression went from utterly focused to utterly surprised. The cards she’d thrown cut through the first beast’s form, their blank faces staying dim as their passage through it dispelled the illusion. Her real move, the literal ace in her sleeve, left her hand with a flourish she was particularly proud of. 

Light flashed between them, cutting a swath out of the illusory fog that made a clear path for her to close the distance. His staff spun towards her, barely missing, before completing its circuit. Inky darkness flooded out around them, cutting her line of sight down to inches. Within its depths, she could just make out the tentacles of his palisman  _ pulling  _ the second cloud from somewhere inside of it. Luz shuddered at the sight as she took her shot, flinging another glyph-marked card into the cloud of ink and earning a brief glimpse of Gus’ face in its burst of light.

_ It was the chance she needed. _

Sore legs screamed as she threw herself through the darkness, hands outstretched to where he’d been a moment before. Fingers tangled themselves in cloth, twisting and holding on tight to prevent any hope of escape. A moment of resistance, and then acceptance.

_ And the world around her roared back into life. _

Luz’s senses were overwhelmed as a thousand hues replaced the blacks and blues of her surroundings. Muffled growls and snarls were replaced by laughter. Her own, she realized with a start. Gus’ too, his face not a foot from hers, though a good eight inches higher, the rascal. Untangling her hands from his coat, she pulled back, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

“You can’t focus on more than two spells, can you?” she asked, her thoughts bubbling to the surface.

“I certainly can’t,” he replied, chuckling. “Even keeping up two for that long of a time is an absolute nightmare. I’ve had a migraine every night for the past four days.”

“Serves you right,” Luz quipped, “I’ve been seeing those  _ things  _ in my dreams for just as long. What are they?”

“Barghests. Nasty things. Not too common, but always a problem when they show up.”

“How close are your illusions to the real thing?”

“Smaller by about a foot,” he replied, “need to be so I can put two out at once, so it’s not really the pack experience, but it’s close.”

_ Smaller _ ? They’d been the size of mastiffs. Luz shuddered to think that there were  _ packs  _ of the things wandering around the Isles.

“Still,” he continued, “you’ve got to tell me what gave me away!”

Triumphant, Luz grinned in response, shaking her head as she settled back on her heels. In the process, she spared a glance for the onlookers. They must have passed Viney’s check-in, because she’d already turned back to Willow, the two of them deep in conversation about something on one of their scrolls. Eda stood off to the side, trying hard not to let a smile creep past her stoic features, but she at least gestured her approval. The hand that Gus waved between them drew her attention back to him.

“C’mon Luz,” he whined as she turned back to him, “we’re supposed to help each other out here.”

“I thought this was all about ‘training me to face the myriad threats of the Isles?’”

“That’s more Eda’s thing, to be honest,” he replied.

“Well I’m glad you’re so worried about me,” Luz huffed, turning away from him with an exaggerated air of disapproval. She waited for a moment before turning back to him and, finding that he clearly wasn’t buying it, dropped the act. Sighing, she finally conceded. “I know you can do something to hide the sound of your footsteps, but you can’t do that when you’ve got the fog and the illusions up, right?”

“Right,” Gus replied, nodding, “There’s a limit on how many effects you can have going. Usually two, maybe three if you keep them small. I’ve seen a few really good witches keep four or five going at once, but that uses up bile like you wouldn’t believe.”

“So while you’re focused on the showstoppers,” Luz continued, “you’re not able to hide your footsteps without compromising one or the other.”

“And you picked up on that?” Gus asked, incredulous, earning a shrug from the human. “Luz, you realize that our hearing is better than yours, right?”

“Hyperfocus, baby,” she replied, shooting him a pair of finger-guns, “simultaneously my blessing and curse.”

Gus mused on that for a moment, looking her over before smiling, seemingly satisfied with whatever he saw. Setting his staff into the crook of his arm, he outstretched his hand between them. Luz took it, surprised by the strength of the grip, and felt the last illusion slip away from him. The witch standing in front of her  _ wasn’t  _ the kid she’d left behind. That much was certain. He was still Gus, of course. She had no doubt that he’d be going on about memes or some equally incomprehensible part of the world she took for granted before she knew it, but for now, in this moment, he looked every bit the bright young spellcaster everyone else in the Isles must have seen him as. 

“Eda!” he called back, breaking the moment, “She’s got me beat. I’m tapping out.” Turning to regard Luz one last time, he squeezed her hand before letting go. There was a flash of something across his face, a quick glance over his shoulder, and then a conspiratorial smile crossed his features. “Willow’s up next,” he whispered, forcing Luz to crane in to hear him, “so the biggest thing to keep in mind is that she’s got a lot more raw power under her belt than I do. There’s no meeting her head-on, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to use that strength against her.”

“Actually,” Eda called back, “it’s getting late enough that we should probably call it.” She crossed the distance between them in a few strides, eyes sparkling in the fading twilight. “Don’t want to run you so ragged you give out on us, kid.”

“Hey, works for me,” Luz replied, “I’m not looking to get whipped into shape by anyone new for at least the next eight hours.”

“Good,” Willow interjected as she joined them, Viney close behind, “because we’re not just going over magic tomorrow.”

“We’re not?” Luz asked, voice thin.

“Nope.”

“You going to tell me what we  _ are _ doing?”

“Nope.”

“Viney,” Luz appealed, turning to the other witch, “you’ve got to vouch for me, right? You’re basically my doctor. Shouldn’t I know what I’m getting into? For stress reasons?”

“Stress reasons?” the beastmaster replied, grinning.

“You’re in on it, aren’t you?”

“Whatever would make you say that?”

“God,” Luz began, taking a step back from the rest of them, “you’re all trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“We’re trying to keep you from  _ getting  _ killed,” Eda interjected.

“And that means we’re just going to have to keep hitting you until you’re the trunk that doesn’t break in the storm,” Willow finished, animating her point with a delightful little gesture that resembled nothing so much as her spine getting snapped in half. Or it could have been a stick. But if that was the case, she should have used a stick.

“See, Willow gets it,” Eda quipped, chuckling.

“And I’m here to make sure that if you do break, we can patch you up before it’s permanent,” Viney added, trying to be helpful. Bless her for it.

“Well as long as you’re going to put me back together after you break me,” Luz mumbled, rubbing one of a dozen spots on her body that already felt well on their way.

“However,” Eda began, catching Luz’s attention with the tone in her voice, “considering that you just bested one of the Isles’ brightest young minds…” She trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air. “I suppose you’re not  _ completely  _ defenseless. So I might as well let you rest before the breaking begins in earnest.” She grinned at that one, that same wolfish grin from the first day. Luz gulped at the familiar sight. “So feel free to take the weekend off.”

“Really?” Luz asked, dumbfounded. Eda had been working her for the better part of the last two weeks. Having an entire weekend off, it was like she’d been handed the golden ticket. Unless it was a trap…

“And no,” Eda added, “I can see what you’re thinking, so I promise it’s not a trap.”

_ Three whole days. No training, no early-morning glyph inspections. No mass-sketching new ones to replace the dozens she went through each day. _

“Of course, come Selesday, I’m expecting you to be ready first-thing,” Eda warned, trying and failing to avoid breaking out into the grin at the sight of the one that was undoubtedly working its way across Luz’s face.

“Thank you, Eda!” Luz shouted, moving to pull her mentor into a hug but finding herself pushed back by the tip of her staff.

“Kid, you’re covered in dirt.”

“ _ You’re  _ always covered in something.”

“Yeah, but it’s my something.”

Luz remembered that they had an audience about the same time Eda did, judging by the sudden look of embarrassment on her face. Muttering something about needing to check whether King had managed to sneak into the pantry, the witch stalked into the house. Willow tossed one last menacing knuckle-crack Luz’s way before letting the facade fall and congratulating her on beating Gus. Midway through, Viney’s scroll buzzed, and she stepped away as a familiar voice filtered out of it.

“Tell Emira I say hi!” Luz shouted after her, earning a thumbs up from the beastmaster as she made her way towards Lowell. The griffin had to be the most placid creature she’d ever seen. Either that, or he just considered clearings full of illusions and explosions to be completely normal, which, considering who his handler’s girlfriend was, might have just been the case.

“So what are you going to do with your free weekend?” Gus asked, pulling her back to the conversation.

“Well I’m for sure going to sleep in as long as the usual suspects will let me tomorrow, but after that, who knows? Maybe I’ll check out the library, see if there’s anything new in stock?”

“Anything new in stock, huh?” Willow asked, voice teasing. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for something you already know is in stock? Or someone?” Luz blushed furiously at the implication, opening her mouth to respond before Gus chimed in.

“Or maybe she’s just going there to see Amity!”

Silence hung heavy between the three of them as Luz and Willow turned to face the steadily reddening illusionist. Sheepish, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “You know,” he added, “because she works there and all.”

“I blame you for this,” Luz tossed at Willow as she turned and walked through the door, not even waiting to see if the two of them followed.

“Me?” the botanist asked, jogging to catch up, “How am I to blame for this?”

“You’re obviously the one who told him.”

“Hey,” Gus interjected, following the two of them as Luz headed up the stairs “I’m the one who figured it out for myself.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” Luz responded, smirking. As she reached her door, she turned to face them, opening it behind her as she ushered them in. She made it a few steps before flopping face first into her bed, the wood frame creaking beneath her. Turning over to face her friends, she watched Willow settle into her desk chair, Gus ignoring the thing Eda called a beetle-bag to lean against the wall. Judging by the way he crossed his arms, he wasn’t done with the conversation just yet.

“Well believe it or not,” he began, “I’m not actually that oblivious.”

“You’re right,” Willow added, “I don’t believe it.”

“Well at least I’m not as oblivious as Luz.”

“How am I the oblivious one here?” Luz asked, earning a pointed stare from both of them. “What? What am I missing here?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Willow replied, leaning back in her chair, “there was the whole ‘that’s what friends are for’ at Grom.”

“That time Amity carved her a courtship talisman and she told her it was a ‘neat pattern.’” Gus added, earning a groan from her.

“Oh,” Willow continued, “or that time that they got locked in the Eternal Supply Closet when we got split up during that ambush at Hexside. I don’t think either of them stopped blushing for a week.”

“That was in the past!” Luz interjected, desperately trying to get them to stop. “People have crushes when they’re younger. Things change!”

“Luz, you’re too smart for this,” Willow chided. “What happened to ‘I keep thinking about her! I can’t stop thinking about her!’”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Oh, by all means, inform me as to the difference.”

“Just because I like her doesn’t mean she likes me.” That one hung in the air a bit longer than the others, likely because she hadn’t been able to keep the faint tint of bitterness out of her voice. She’d  _ thought  _ that Amity might feel the same way, especially after that first night, but she hadn’t shown up to the Owl House since. Training being as exhausting as it was, she hadn’t had the energy to go looking for her either. Two weeks had passed without so much as a quick hello, and Luz was starting to think that all the little excuses she had weren’t so honest as they seemed.

_ Was Amity avoiding her? She’d wanted to take it slow from the beginning, but then she’d gone and speedrunned steps one through five the first day she was back. Even if she did like her, that was a lot to put on a person after being gone for so lo- _

She was interrupted from her self-loathing pity spiral by the sound of Willow and Gus bursting into laughter, which did nothing to help her mood.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, you think,” Willow began before doubling over in her seat. Gus wasn’t faring much better, gripping onto the wall for purchase as he wheezed for air.

“You think she doesn’t like you too?” He finally managed to gasp out, the incredulous tone to his voice driving even more heat to her cheeks. “Luz, I’m sorry, but I think that’s one of the craziest things I’ve ever heard.”

“Well she certainly hasn’t been around here lately,” Luz mumbled, putting her thoughts into the open. The two of them shared a look at that one, heads shaking slightly. Willow took a moment to compose herself while Gus wiped a tear from his eye.

“Luz, we barely see Amity, and we’ve been here the whole time you were gone,” Willow finally said, locking her gaze on Luz. “Between Lilith and the library, her schedule is pretty packed. If anything, she’s busier than she was when she actually went to school with us.” Smiling ruefully, Willow shrugged as she turned to look out the window. “Also, and this is the important one, this is Amity we’re talking about.”

“Meaning?” Luz asked, eager to get to whatever the point was.

“Meaning that she doesn’t make plans,” Willow replied, smile turning sad, “she waits for other people to make them and, as she so eloquently puts it, remember to include her.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Luz responded, “the way you guys all talk, it’s obvious that you’re friends. I can’t see you not trying to include her.”

“Oh, we include her,” Gus interjected, “but even that’s like pulling fangs. Half the time she’s got something ‘coming up’ that she ‘just can’t miss.’ The other half, she’s got an excuse for why she wouldn’t fit in wherever we’re going.”

“But you still make her go, right?”

“Obviously,” Willow chimed in, “when we can, at least.”

“What about Edric and Emira?”

“They’re usually pretty busy these days,” Gus added, “doing whatever it is they do. If  _ we _ didn’t drag her out of the house, kicking and screaming, once a week, I honestly doubt she’d do anything other than work, eat, study, and sleep.”

“What about her other friends?” Luz asked, earning a concerned look from the two of them, “I thought she was trying to rebuild her bridges with them now that they weren’t being forced into a friendship.”

“If she talks to them, she doesn’t go out with them,” Willow responded, looking to Gus for anything he might add. Once he shrugged, she looked back to Luz, apparently at a loss for anything else to say.

Which was completely fair, to be honest.  _ What did you say after something like that?  _ The craziest thing was, Luz knew exactly how Amity must have felt the last couple years. She’d done the same thing, after all. Oh sure, there had been a brief friendship here and there, but running a full set of classes both semesters and summers the last two years had all but killed what little social prospects she’d had. If it hadn’t been for her mom constantly pulling her back into the land of the living, she’d have probably been right there with her.

Something about her expression must have given her away, because by the time Luz looked back up at her friends concern had touched their features. They shared another look, and she could almost imagine the little flash of meaning sparking between them. They might not have been as close as Ed and Em, but the two of them clearly got each other in a way that she just  _ didn’t _ . 

“Why don’t we nab two nixies with one bolt?” Willow suggested, tossing the absolutely bananas phrase out like it was nothing.

“Do what to the who now?” Luz asked, suitably confused.

“Why don’t we just get a gauge of how much Amity likes you and drag her out of the house in the same fell swoop?”

“And how do you propose we do that, oh wise sage?”

“Here,” Willow replied simply, doing something to her scroll and handing it to her, “just ask her to go grab a cup of coffee with you tomorrow.”

“Ask her to…” Luz mumbled, trailing off as she looked down at the screen. Traced along the bottom in a flowing script were the words “Arborvitae, Blight,” and just above that was a little portrait that held a photo of a younger Amity. Comprehension set in a moment before the text turned from red to green, quickly turning to panic when she heard a familiar voice drift out of it.

“Hello? Willow?” Luz’s gaze shot to Willow. Had she really handed her a ringing phone and told her to just go for it? Judging by the way she was gesturing and mouthing for her to get on with it, that was  _ exactly _ what she’d done.

“Hey, Amity. It’s me,” Luz managed to rasp out. There was a thud on the other end of the line. Some sort of scraping and a muffled voice in the background. “Everything alright over there?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Super fine, really.” There was a long pause, a few tense moments of silence. “How… about you?”

“Honestly? Better now,” Luz replied, feeling her shoulders slowly relax.

“Luz…” Amity began, trailing off before she could string anything else to it. Again, Luz heard a muffled voice, though this time it sounded like laughter.

“If I’m interrupting something, that’s my bad,” Luz began, only to be cut off by a quick “No!” from the other end. More laughter followed it.

“No,” Amity repeated, “you’re not interrupting anything. I was just going over some reports with Lilith. How did training go today? Eda said you were making progress.”

“Well I finally managed to beat Gus, so I’d say progress has certainly been made,” Luz responded, glancing at the witch in question as she said so. He’d moved to the corner of her desk, where he was quietly snickering with Willow. As she caught their gaze, the two of them dramatically swooned against the desk. She flashed them a very particular gesture before turning to the far wall.

“You figured out his tell then?” Amity asked.

“Oh yeah, and it only cost me a couple severed limbs in the process.”

“And I suppose you had to uncover some lost secret glyph, believe in the power of friendship,  _ and  _ discover a hidden well of power within yourself to do it?”

“You know me so well,” Luz teased, ignoring the way Willow mimicked it back to her from back by her desk.

“As pleasant a surprise as this was,” Amity began, the finality of it shifting Luz back into her initial panic, “Lilith is starting to huff and puff, so I should probably get going…”

“Wait!” Luz shouted, cringing at the utter lack of volume control. Silence hung heavy on the other end of the line.

“Yes?”

“What?…” Luz trailed off, suddenly lost for words. As she scrambled to remember what exactly she’d been trying to ask her, little puffs of blue smoke appeared in front of her eyes, slowly resolving into the words she’d been looking for. “What are you doing tomorrow?” Without looking, she flashed a much nicer gesture to Gus from behind her back.

“Tomorrow? Why do you ask?” 

“Well, seeing as I got past Gus, Eda gave me the weekend off, and I was wondering if you’d maybe, I don’t know, if you’re not doing anything else…”

“Yes!” Amity replied immediately.

“Amity.”

“Yeah?”

“I never said where we were going or what we were doing.”

“Ah, right. Fair point.”

“Would you like me to?” Luz asked, trying and failing to capture that same teasing tone that was so easy to find sometimes but had somehow completely left her now. The result was almost  _ painfully _ unsure.

“Please?”

“I figured we could go grab a cup of coffee at that place you like, maybe catch up? It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you and I’ve…” Luz trailed off, turning to scowl at Gus’ form, silently contorted in laughter. Turning back away from him, she dashed her hand through the words “ _ been moping around like a sad griffin cub. _ ”

“You’ve what?” Amity asked, curious.

“You know, I missed you.”

“Oh,” Amity replied simply.

“Oh?” Luz asked in turn, suddenly worried that she’d gone too far again.

“I… missed you too,” Amity responded, a decided warmness to her tone that brought the same sensation to Luz’s cheeks. 

“Well, good,” she found herself saying, immediately kicking herself for it, “I mean, not good that you did. I’m glad that you did, but not that you had to… You know what, how about we just meet there tomorrow, say around ten?”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Great, I’ll uh, see you then,” Luz responded, searching for some way to say goodbye that wouldn’t drive the nail in her coffin before blurting out “ _ Te veo brujita _ ” and immediately hanging up. 

_ You know, like a normal person would? _

Sighing loudly, Luz dropped the scroll on the bed next to her, letting gravity pull her into the mattress at terminal velocity. The satisfying thump of her body impacting was almost enough to distract her from the embarrassment extravaganza the last five minutes had been. From the sound of her friends’ no longer muted laughter, they weren’t going to let her forget it any time soon.

Still, despite the red that was steadily working its way from her cheeks and down what felt like her entire back, despite the exaggerated reenactments of her foibles followed by laughter, even despite the unfortunate fact that she’d hung up on Amity before she could say bye back, she couldn’t help the wide smile that crossed her face.

Because she’d just asked Amity freaking Blight on an actual, no doubts about it, the two of them alone in a coffee shop together, honest-to-goodness date.

And she’d said  _ yes _ . Multiple times actually. In a variety of different tones and inflections. Each one played out in her head, one after another, and try though it might, that little part of her brain that second-guessed just about everything couldn’t find any sort of ulterior motive or reluctance in any of them.

So sorry to all the folks that had called her “the Chosen One,” or the “strongest witch in the Isles,” or even “their mortal enemy,” but that was just about the coolest thing that she’d ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the second arc of our story. Notable first-time inclusion; some action scenes! I hope they're as fun to read as they were to write. Next chapter won't have as many, but you should expect them to be sprinkled fairly periodically throughout the work from here on out. As always, I hope you're enjoying this story, and I look forward to reading your comments below.


	12. Hello My Old Heart

There are, as it turns out, certain limits to the tensile strength of the interior surface of a witch’s ribs. As for how Amity knew there were, well, that was entirely due to the fact that her heart’s hammering was currently pushing said limit. It was hard not to.

Because Luz was  _ holding her hand again _ . Which, to be completely honest, should not have had that sort of effect on her. They’d held hands before; Titan, they’d done it a couple weeks ago, but she’d since written that off as a spur of the moment sort of thing. It was a good idea to have a firm tether on reality where her siblings were concerned. Granted, Luz didn’t know them as well as she did, but still, there was at least a reasonable explanation for why she’d done it that time.

This time, however, there was absolutely no worldly explanation that could explain why, the minute Luz had caught sight of her, she’d run to close the distance between them and grabbed Amity’s hand. It wasn’t like she was complaining, but still.

“Is this the place?” Luz’s voice asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“We’ve been here before.”

“Amity, I can’t remember what I had for breakfast this morning.”

“And yet you can recall, in perfect detail, the plotline of just about every book you’ve read,” Amity replied, sly grin crossing her features. Gesturing to the door with her free hand, the witch indicated that they had, in fact, come to the right place. Luz unlinked their hands, earning a pout, before making up for it by holding the door open for her. Which, really, was entirely unfair. She hadn’t even known where the place was a moment ago.

“Well,” Luz replied as she stepped through the door after her, “those things are important to me. Makes it a lot easier to remember details when there’s a reason.”

“And what might that reason be?”

“You know. Inspiration, cool lines and one-liners to bust out later, advice, that sort of thing.”

“Suppose that makes sense,” Amity responded, sparing a glance for the counter. The place was crowded, which wasn’t unusual, but there wasn’t a line at the counter to match, which definitely was. “Same as usual?” she asked, turning to Luz.

“What’s my usual?”

“Coffee with enough sugar that it ‘tastes like anything other than death,’ hold the milk.”

“Right in one,  _ brujita _ , want me to find us a table?”

“If you can,” Amity replied wearily, looking back out over the crowded coffee house.

“Don’t worry  _ chica _ , I’ve got this,” Luz responded, eyes locking on the room as well. Whatever opportunity she saw, Amity certainly didn’t, but it must have been promising, because she went off like a firebolt, leaving Amity alone in the entryway. The witch let out a long-suffering sigh at the abrupt departure of the human, but couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed her face. Shaking her head in exasperation, she wove her way through the crowd before arriving at the counter.”

“Welcome to the Glass Cauldron, pouring your deepest desires,” chimed the witch behind the counter. Why did her voice sound familiar? “I’ll be with you in just a min— Oh, hi Amity.”

“Skara?” Sure enough, standing behind the counter was a witch who Amity hadn’t seen in over a year. She’d let her hair grow out a bit, the silver of it shot through with little streaks of copper and jet. To her credit, the effect of it was only somewhat diminished by her uniform. “I didn’t realize you worked here,” Amity added, realizing she’d been staring.

“About two weeks now, actually.”

“Ah… Well, are you enjoying it?”

“Oh, it’s great! They love hiring kids from the Bard track. Free entertainment off of letting us play our own music and all.”

“This is one of yours, then?” Amity asked, curious. Even when she’d been, well, maybe ‘friends’ wasn’t the right word, close maybe? Even when they’d been close, Skara had never played her music for any of them.

“Ah, no, this is actually one of Callie’s. My stuff is a bit more… human-inspired, you might say,” Skara replied, chuckling. Expression suddenly sly, she glanced over to the corner of the room. “Speaking of which, that wouldn’t happen to be Luz sitting over in that booth, would it?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Oh, no reason. It’s not like I saw you two walk in together or anything.”

“You picked that out in the middle of  _ this  _ crowd?”

“Amity, this isn’t the first place I’ve worked a register at. You learn how to pick out the new arrivals, or you end up having to deal with unpleasant surprises.”

“I uh, I wouldn’t know. I mostly just sort books and write reports.”

“So not much has changed then?” Skara asked, laughing.

“I suppose not,” Amity conceded, joining in. It felt good to talk to her again. Of all the witches in their group, she’d always been the one Amity felt the most at ease with.

“As good as it is to see you,” Skara began, bringing her back to the present, “I think my manager’s going to hex us both into the dirt if you don’t order something.”

“Right, sorry! Uhm, oh what was it… Right, I’ll have a Salva tea with an infusion of passionflower and a - please, bear with me here - a coffee with enough sugar to make it taste ‘like something other than death,’ hold the milk.”

“Wow, real mystery as to whose is whose,” Skara quipped. She turned to the side, arms passing out of sight as she (presumably) began to fix the drinks. Amity tried to follow the motions, but quickly lost track. If she was new, she was learning quick. “So,” Skara began, catching her attention, “what’s been keeping you lately, besides the obvious?”

“Don’t you need to see to other customers?”

“Do you see any other customers?” Following her gesture, Amity glanced behind her. Sure enough, a line still hadn’t formed. Small miracle, that.

“Besides, we’re encouraged to form a ‘personal connection to our clients by following them every step of the way.’”

“That a new policy?”

“Nah, just the sort of thing I have to follow while I’m training. So?”

“So what?”

“So?... What’s been keeping you so busy lately? No one’s been able to get ahold of you for, like, a year. If we didn’t see you all around town, we’d have probably held a funeral.”

“’We’ being?”

“Amelia, Cat, and I.”

“Not Boscha though, I take it?”

“You didn’t hear?” Skara asked, face suddenly serious. Despite herself, Amity felt a weight settle into her stomach.

“No, did something happen to her?”

“We uh, we lost the championship match last year pretty hard,” Skara began. Her expression grew distant, conflicted. Her focus flicked from Amity back to the task at hand. Even when she started back up, her eyes stayed there, almost unwilling to meet her own. “Boscha… didn’t take it well. Quit the team, stopped talking to pretty much everyone, barely shows up for class anymore. Word around school is that Bump’s cutting her some slack because of her record, but who knows how long that can last.”

“I didn’t realize—”

“I mean, how could you? You left too.”

“Skara, I—”

“Hey, I’m not accusing you of anything,” she added quickly. “Not judging you either. Just stating facts. If I had a mentor like the broiling  _ Matron of the Isles _ , I’d leave school too. I can’t even imagine the kind of adventures you guys get up to.”

“Yeah… Adventures.”

“Anyways, your tea’s going to take some time to steep, and I might as well just put on a new pot of coffee. Why don’t you let me get to it and get back to your date?”

“She’s not… We’re not—”

“Hey, like I said, no accusations, no judgments. I’ll call you by name when it’s done. Oh, and Amity?”

“Yeah?”

The intensity of Skara’s stare as she met her eyes again surprised Amity, but not as much as the tenderness that immediately undercut it.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright? My rune sequence is still the same as before. If you need someone to talk to – a link to the old group – or at least the better parts of it, just give me a call. I’m sure Amelia and Cat would love to see you.”

“I… might just do that Skara, thank you.”

“Hey, ‘forming a personal connection,’ remember?”

“What excellent service,” Amity mused, turning away to find Luz. Her smile had come back, but this time, it had an entirely different source.

~---~

__

Eventually, she spotted Luz, perched in a corner booth that had never, as long as Amity had been coming here, been empty. Progress through the crowd was slow, and by the time she’d made it halfway there, Luz had noticed her. She was just about to ask her how she’d managed such a feat when the human in question popped up from her seat and darted towards the counter.

Amity watched, incredulous, as Luz wove through the crowd in record time, hitting the counter and immediately striking up a conversation with Skara. The witch seemed just as surprised as she was, but whatever it was Luz had said soon had her laughing. By the time she walked away from the counter, she left a chuckling barista in her wake, the expression on her face instantly recognizable.

She called it the “Luz smile.” That subtle sense of joy and bemusement that seemed to always follow in her wake. Amity had seen it on demons and witches, humans and monsters alike, but she’d never gotten tired of it. It was one of the things she lov— really liked about Luz.

_ Careful, Amity. You’re in dangerous territory here. _

“Sorry, didn’t mean to just leave you here,” Luz quipped, (thankfully) pulling Amity out of her thoughts. “Changed my mind on something after you were done. Wanted to make sure I got to her in time. It was nice to see Skara!”

“I didn’t realize you were ever friends with Skara.”

“I wasn’t, but it was still nice to see her. Gus says she’s really involved with the Society.”

“He never mentioned that to me…”

“Well,” Luz replied, occupying her hands with a pair of stirring straws, “Gus said that she’s always right there with him when Eda brings stuff back from the Human Realm. He takes anything that looks mechanical, and she gets first dibs on instruments and anything that vaguely resembles sheet music.”

“She mentioned something about ‘human inspiration’ in her music,” Amity replied, all but in sync with the end of the song that had been drifting through the air, somehow audible over the noise of the packed coffee house. Luz hummed in pleasure at the first few notes, listening for a moment before starting to tap along with her stirrers.

“From the sound of it, it's less like inspiration, and more like covers.” She listened for a few more bars, still humming along, stirrers tapping in perfect time to the beat. “She’s really good, too,” Luz added, grinning. There it was again. After all, the person who wore the “Luz smile” best was the girl herself.

“So…” She began, pulling Amity back to the conversation.

“So?”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“If I recall, you were the one that asked me ou— I mean, asked me to come with you. You know, to get a drink. As friends! That’s what I meant, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously,” Luz replied, voice low.

“Don’t tease me.”

“What, me? Tease you? Never.”

“I’ve got a tea and a coffee for ‘ _ Brujita _ !’” Skara’s voice shouted over the din. Amity immediately turned to Luz, eyes narrowing.

“You didn’t.”

“Anyone?” Skara called again, looking directly at the two of them. “Tea and a coffee for ‘ _ Brujita _ ?’”

“Luz,” Amity whined, “you didn’t.”

“You better go get our drinks before they get cold,  _ brujita _ ,” Luz teased, stressing the nickname with a positively  _ devilish  _ smile.

Amity pushed herself up from the table with a huff, intent on masking her frustration as being  _ directed  _ at Luz, rather than the sort it actually was. That little knot that settled somewhere in her stomach every time she heard the little nickname that Luz had given her. Especially knowing what it meant.

_ Dangerous territory indeed. _

“You going to tell me what that means?” Skara asked as she approached the counter, chuckling. Two drinks sat on the counter in front of her, and Amity grabbed one at random, hoping it was her own. Thankfully, it was, and the familiar blend of flavors had the desired, calming effect as they scalded the back of her throat. She gulped it down regardless, trying to draw some courage from it.

“It means,” Amity began, grimacing, “that I’m going to have to strike a devastating blow in our relations with the human realm.”

“Aww, don’t be too mean to her about it. You should’ve seen how much she blushed when she asked me to switch the name.”

“She blushed?”

“Big time, Ams. Seems you’ve got quite the admirer on your hands.”

“Great,” Amity muttered, fire roaring into her cheeks. “That’s… great.”

“Well, aren’t you just two of a kind,” Skara joked, turning back to the register, but not before tossing a final “Enjoy your totally-not-date” over her shoulder.

Desperately attempting to quell some of the heat in her features, Amity took the long way around the room. By the time she’d made it halfway, she realized it was going nowhere. If anything, passing so many people who could (obviously) see into her mind’s eye only made it worse. Once she was only a few tables away, she’d decided that she would take some advice from her siblings for once.

_ Don’t get mad Mittens, get even. _

So, as she passed Luz, if Amity happened to set her coffee down in front of her and  _ accidentally  _ brush a hand along her cheek in the process, well, all was fair. If the furious shade of crimson that flushed up her neck was anything to go by, it certainly seemed to transfer some of the heat.

“Luz,” Amity asked, teasing, as she sat down across from her, “are you flustered?”

“Whaaat? No, never. Me? flustered?  _ Brujita _ , I eat demons for breakfast, lunch, and dinner! I don’t get flustered”

“You realize that more than half of the patrons here have demon blood or are  _ literal  _ demons, right?”

“I do now that you’ve pointed it out.”

“Mmhmm,” Amity responded, busying herself with her cup, “well keep that in mind in the future. I’d rather someone not try to put you in your place. Justifiably even, I might add. Because then I’d have to step in, and it would  _ really _ turn into a mess.”

“Defending my honor, huh Blight?”

“Hardly. More like rescuing a problem-child from the consequences of her actions.”

“Well, aren’t you all snarky quips and quick wit all of a sudden? What happened to the blushing mess from earlier?”

“That blushing mess didn’t realize how easily she could turn the tables with fewer than ten words and a smile.”

“ _ Hay muchas cosas que podrias hacer con menos de diez palabras y una sonrisa _ ,” Luz muttered, the damnable way her voice curled around the syllables almost breaking the façade Amity had tried so hard to keep up.

_ Figure something out, Blight. What did Lilith always say? “When fighting a skilled opponent, deflect their strongest blow and use it against them.” _

“You know that whole ‘switching to another language to say something that embarrasses you’ thing works a lot better if you don’t blush even more when you say it, right?”

“I’m not doing it for me,” Luz mumbled, “I’m doing it for you.”

“Oh really,” Amity replied, ignoring the little voice in her head that was practically  _ screaming  _ at this point. “For me, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“And why would that be?”

“Because if I said it to your face, in a language you understood, we’d both be in trouble.”

“Maybe I  _ want _ to be in trouble?”

Silence settled between them. Thin enough to shatter at the slightest touch. Amity found that she couldn’t possibly meet Luz’s eyes as the full implication of what she’d said settled around her.

_ “Maybe I want to be in trouble?” What did she think she was, some sort of bold heroine? Some femme fatale? _

Finally, filled with dread, she looked back up at Luz, unsure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t her practically doubled over, eyes watering, locked in silent laughter. Try though she might, Amity barely held out for a moment before joining in. The floodgates broke, and both of them all but roared with laughter.

“Listen to us!” Luz wheezed, first to break the silence.

“I know,” Amity groaned, covering her face with both hands, “By the Titan, what’s gotten into us?”

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that your nook was hidden behind the Romance section and we read, oh, probably every single  _ awful _ novel on that shelf.”

“Hey, there are some good ones in that section.”

“Oh really? Name one.”

“ _ No Afterlife Without You  _ wasn’t awful.”

“Amity,” Luz chided, the force in it drawing her eyes back to her face, “the entire book was just one long, drawn-out metaphor for how the author couldn’t find happiness with anyone because he felt like he was trapped between life and death.”

“I thought there were some good lines in it,” Amity replied, trailing off. She liked the book for… reasons. Ones that Luz would probably get if she gave it a shot.

“Oh right, how could I forget the literary brilliance of ‘ _ I’m sorry Isabella, but I just can’t bring myself to love you. Something, it’s, it’s pulling me away from you as fast as I run towards you, faster even! Something dark. Something terrible!’ _ Oooooh.”

“Oh, quit it. Of course it sounds terrible when you say it like that. Why don’t  _ you _ come up with something better?”

Titan take her, but the way her features creased into the image of focus, Amity knew that she actually  _ was  _ trying to come up with something better. Knowing Luz, if she gave her enough time, she probably would. She considered chiming in before she could but thought better of it at the last moment. After, all, she’d probably get distracted before long, and how good could it really be?

“ _ Nothing makes less sense to me than the idea of ‘falling’ in love _ ,” Luz began, voice low and, god, was she trying to be  _ sultry? _ It was working, but still. _ “Who wants to fall into anything? No, I’d much rather walk straight into love, eyes open, fully aware of the path I’m following. After all, we all claim to treasure the journey, but really we’re just waiting to get to the destination. _ ”

“That’s not fair,” Amity replied, furiously trying (and failing) to keep the blush out of her cheeks, “There’s no way you came up with it on your own.”

“Are you saying that I, Luz Noceda, famed ghost-writer, can’t write some silly love poems?”

“I’m saying that there’s no way you came up with  _ that  _ in a few minutes.”

“Well fine,” Luz conceded, “maybe I didn’t come up with it  _ right now _ , but I did write it. I just needed to remember it.”

“You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”

“Amity, I wouldn’t lie to you,” Luz responded, immediately serious.

“You’ll have to read me more of those sometime then. I’m curious to see what else you have rolling around up there.”

“Maybe I will.”

“I’d like you to.”

“Fine! I’m going to knock your socks off  _ brujita _ , just you wait.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Alright, come on, cut it out!”

“Whatever could you be referring to?”

“This,” Luz replied, gesturing between them, “this whole dynamic is like, a complete one-eighty from pretty much any other time. There’s no way one revelation about me being able to blush too caused that much of a change.”

“Maybe it’s more than one revelation,” Amity mused, chuckling, “maybe it’s the culmination of many different revelations, and they just happened to all come together, here in this coffee shop at, oh, eleven o'clock in the morning.”

“You’re teasing me,” Luz mumbled, incredulous.

“You caught on.”

“What proof do I have that this hasn’t just all been some elaborate trick by the twins for that time I swindled them into that raid on the Bat Queen’s palisman stores?”

“Well, for starters, Edric and Emira don’t get ‘swindled’ into anything. If you got them to do something, it was because they were already thinking of doing it and you just gave them an excuse. Secondly,” Amity continued, forcing a smirk to her face, “if one or both of them was controlling some sort of illusion of me, this conversation would have gone a  _ completely  _ different direction a long time ago.”

“Fair points, I guess,” Luz conceded, grinning, “but that just means you’re actually teasing me, which still comes out in my favor.”

“And how do you suppose that?”

“Well, because you’re spending time with me  _ and  _ I get to see your cute face.”

“My…”

“Was that too far? I figured, you know, because we were going back and forth. I didn’t want to assume anything, but it just seemed like—”

“Luz.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re allowed to compliment me. In fact, as long as you’re willing, I’d encourage it.”

Luz’s eyes went wide at that one, eyes flashing with possibilities. The moment her expression went from vacant to playful, a part of Amity began to regret it. Another part of her though, the part that was steadily taking the lead, couldn’t help but feel excited.

“You feeling alright,  _ brujita _ ?” Luz asked, teasing.

“I’m feeling fine  _ mellilla _ , why do you ask?”

Amity grinned, watching the gears turn as Luz turned the unfamiliar word over in her head. Thankfully, wonderfully, she didn’t seem to get it. Teasing was all well and good, but that particular nickname had been something private, something she’d intended to hold onto for a bit longer. Titan only knows what she would have done if she’d been able to make sense of it on her own.

“Maybe,” Amity began, walking her fingers across the table, “It’s like I said. Maybe a lot of things have just been falling into place for me the last couple of weeks.” She enjoyed the way Luz gulped as her hand walked its way to cover her own. “It’s also entirely possible that I had Skara add an extract of passionflower to my tea to help loosen me up.”

“Passionflower? Like ‘ _ Passion’ _ flower?”

“Oh, not like that,” Amity replied, blushing furiously at the implication but refusing to let it flag her. “It’s a sort of, I don’t know how you would describe it, a relaxant?”

“Did you have Skara _spike_ your tea?”

“Why is this suddenly an interrogation?”

“Because if I had known that was an option, I would have gotten some for myself!”

“Why would you need a relaxant?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe because I’m on my first date ever with Amity freaking Blight and she’s like this crazy witch powerhouse that makes my heart do cartwheels every time she laughs at one of my dumb jokes?”

If it was at all possible, the second silence hung even longer. Felt somehow more tense. It was Luz’s turn to be unable to meet Amity’s eyes though, honestly, if she had locked eyes with her, she doubted she’d have been able to keep that gaze for long.

_ She said date. They were on a date, weren’t they? She’d admitted to it. _

“I uh, I said that all out loud didn’t I,” Luz added, face a shade somewhere between maroon and purple. It was almost impressive.

“Yes,” Amity replied quietly, “you did.”

“And I said that pretty loud. Like, way too loud, didn’t I.”

“Also, yes.”

Another silence, this one marked by Luz frantically looking across the coffee house. At patrons who refused to meet her gaze or, worse still, snickered lightly as they stared back at her. Sighing, she turned back to Amity.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know, like anywhere but here?”

“I would love to,” Amity assured, utterly sincere.

“Cool, great. Hey, just one thing?”

“Yes, Luz?”

“I still have no idea how money works here.” Pulling a series of notes out of her pocket, Luz held them up, clearly baffled as what they were supposed to represent. “You think you could help me figure out change for a 39 ¾ piece?”

~---~

At the center of Bonesborough, there once stood a prison – an edifice to order and the ‘proper way of doing things’ that had held many a rogue witch or free-thinking mind in its time. Now, in its place, a garden stood. Swirling trellises of new growth fastened to once-impenetrable stone walls. Beds of flowers in scattered, untidy clusters of color where courtyards had once served as the only glimpse the inmates may have had of the sky for a year or more. Confinement given over to freedom, anguish to peace.

It had quickly become one of Amity’s favorite places on the Isles. So when Luz had asked her to find a place where she wouldn’t have to be surrounded by people, it was the clear first choice.

“So, they really just tore it all down, huh?” Luz asked, one leg propped up on a pile of carefully arranged rubble that burst with all manner of multi-hued fungus.

“Lilith insisted on it,” Amity replied, back against a nearby sapling, “She said ‘the Isles couldn’t heal until the darkest relics of our past were torn down completely.’”

“The citadel too?”

“The citadel is a more… difficult case. The place had magic woven into every stone. She gave the Construction Coven free reign to try their new demolition spells on it; see if they could figure out a way  to tear it down.”

“What about the relics?”

“Distributed amongst the Covens, the peacekeepers, and a few trusted academics.”

“I was surprised to hear she was keeping the Covens intact,” Luz added, turning back to face her from her perch. Amity blushed lightly at the dashing figure she cut, but forced herself to focus. Her eyes were expectant, curious. It wasn’t a statement then, but a question.

“They weren’t a bad thing in and of themselves,” she supplied, earning a nod.

“Yeah, I guess they weren’t. The real problem was forcing people to choose one and give everything else up.”

“Lilith felt the same way,” Amity said, pushing off from the ceiling and crossing the distance between them. Wedging herself between two outcroppings of wood-like mycelium, she turned to meet Luz’s gaze, instead finding her intently focused on a fragment of stone in front of her. Craning to look over her shoulder, she sucked in a breath at the weathered visage staring back at her. That mask still  hadn’t left her nightmares. Seeing it here, in such a peaceful place, just felt… wrong.

“But she also thinks that, eventually, people are going to figure out a better system on their own. That the Covens will eventually change and break up a bit.”

“So where does that leave you?” Luz asked, suddenly turning back to her.

“What do you mean?”

“Amity, almost from the moment I met you, you were set on the Emperor’s Coven.”

“Well, that can hardly happen now.”

“The Peacekeeper’s Coven then?”

“The Peacekeepers aren’t a Coven in the traditional sense. They’re really just a cooperative effort between the Covens and the people of the Isles. Members were selected from all of the major factions. Even a few of the more orderly wild witches joined up.”

“ _ Orderly  _ wild witches?” Luz asked, disbelieving.

“’Wild’ was just a title they gave to witches that didn’t go along with the system. Eda’s sort of… extreme when it comes to that. Most of the witches like her ended up petrified. That just left a bunch of people who resisted in their own, less extravagant ways. Plenty of traditionalists too.”

Luz took a long drink from her coffee, though Amity couldn’t imagine there being much left in the cup. She’d drained her own for the boost of courage a couple hundred yards back. At their pace, that  had been more than an hour ago.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” she finally said, brown locking on amber.

“That being?”

“What’s your goal?” Luz asked, stressing the last word, and letting it hang between them. “You’ve never struck me as the kind of person to not have one.”

“Well, I mostly just help Lilith with her responsibilities as Matron,” Amity replied, breaking eye contact, “I am her apprentice after all.”

“Does that mean  _ you’ll  _ be the next Matron?”

“Hardly. Matron is an elected role. The majority of the Heads of each Coven and settlement would have to agree to it, and they’d have to get their choice approved by everyone under them as well.”

“That’s a lot of people to convince.”

“That’s a lot of people that were hurt by having no choice in who got to make the big decisions for them.”

“Why not just have them all make their own decisions?”

“What, like having everyone vote on everything?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“We just don’t have much experience with it,” Amity replied, looking out over the meadow. Her knee brushed against something that gave slightly, and she realized with a start that they’d somehow drifted closer as they spoke. Amity chuckled quietly before continuing.

“Eda suggested something similar, real early on. Said it was how they did things in a lot of places in the Human Realm. Lilith seemed open to it, but the Coven heads weren’t too keen to give up that much power to the average person. At the time, we needed their approval. Things being so tense. Honestly, we still do, even if things are a bit more even now.”

“So, what  _ do you _ want to do then?”

“I… don’t really know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Is that so weird?”

“Like I said, it always seemed like you were the sort of person who just ‘had a plan,’ you know.”

“Things change, Luz,” Amity whispered, daring to meet her eyes again. Just as she’d been afraid they might, her eyes held this awful tenderness. This inviting vulnerability that threatened to swallow her whole.

“You know, I don’t have any plans about joining a Coven either…” Luz began, trailing off.

“What are you getting at?”

“Why don’t we just form a coven of two?”

Amity found that she was keenly aware of the texture of the stone beneath her hands. Of the faint myriad of wildflower scents that drifted on the air. The world, even, seemed brighter somehow. Though, oddly, infinitely more fragile. More than anything, she felt a blaze ignite somewhere in her chest before progressing steadily to the rest of her body. Lightning, literal arcs of magical energy crackled briefly between them, but Amity forced a mental clamp shut on the Bond before it could form.

_ There was no way in heaven that she was going to give Luz the opportunity to see exactly what emotions were raging, tempestuous, through her heart. _

“What? What did I say?” Luz was asking her, face red, though not nearly as much as hers. She at least had the decency to be embarrassed, even if it wasn’t anywhere near the level she should be experiencing.

“It’s nothing,” Amity forced herself to reply, too quick.

“Well, obviously it’s something.”

“It’s just… You know, or, well, of course you wouldn’t know. But a ‘coven of two’ is an old-fashioned way of referring to people who’re, well…”

“Oh.”

Thank the Titan, she finally seemed to get it. If her deepening blush was anything to go off of, she  _ really  _ got it. Again, Amity felt divided. One part of her wanted to use this as her out. They were far too close, physically and otherwise, and she’d likely not have another opportunity like this to stop things before they went too far. But that other part of her, the little sun-worshipper that was beating a steady tempo against her ribs; she wanted to see just  _ how  _ far it could go.

“It wouldn’t— I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” Amity kept her gaze firmly on her shoes. Slowly, she drew a breath in, letting its exhale take some of her worry away with her. Unfortunately, that still left her with a lot of worry. “Was I given the option, you wouldn’t be the most…” Amity trailed off at the sound of a poorly muffled laugh, eyes darting up to find Luz staring at her, eyes glittering, with a hand over her mouth.

“No,” she began, “by all means. Feel free to continue about how I wouldn’t be your  _ worst _ option.”

“Change the subject,” Amity demanded.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Amity repeated, face flushing for an entirely different reason, “Change the broiling subject.”

“Why should I have to change the subject?”

“Because you’re the one that said something like  _ that _ .”

“I wouldn’t have known I said anything weird if you hadn’t reacted like that.”

“Reacted like what? Embarrassed because you basically just asked me to  _ marry you _ ?”

“That’s  _ not _ how I’d ask you to marry me.”

“That’s beside the poi— Wait, what?”

_ She hadn’t just… _

“What?” Luz asked, an innocent smile plastered to her face.

“You don’t get to ‘what’ me Luz Noceda. Not when you’re just saying one beautifully stupid thing after another.”

“Say that again.”

“Say what again?”

“My name. I liked the way you got my last name right.”

“What, Noceda? That’s how you say it.”

“Please, over on my side of the fence, I’ve heard about a dozen different ways of saying it, none of them right.”

“Well, that’s just rude.”

“It is what it is. World’s a big place full of not-so-nice people.”

“They should at least get your name right,” Amity huffed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the outcropping, pointedly turning away from the human in the process.

“Big difference between ‘should’ and ‘do,’  _ brujita _ .”

“Suppose that’s one thing the Human Realm and the Isles have in common,” Amity admitted, puffing another exhale into the dimming sky. She couldn’t be certain if it was a trick of the light, but she thought she saw steam at the edges. She certainly didn’t  _ feel  _ cold, but there could be a variety of reasons as to why that was the case.

“Suppose it is,” Luz mused. “Was I at least successful at changing the subject?”

“Nice try,” Amity conceded, “but there’s no way that little foible was intentional.”

“Hey, you don’t call me out on my lack of knowledge of Boiling Isles marriage customs and I won’t bug you about the fact that you still haven’t answered my original question.”

“Your… Oh, right.” Amity felt herself hit a wall. What  _ did _ she want to do? Being Lilith’s assistant and working in the library was fine and all, but neither of them were things she wanted to do forever. “I guess I just haven’t really thought about it,” she finally admitted. “To be completely honest, no one’s really asked me what  _ I  _ want to do.”

“Lilith can get pretty focused in on whatever she’s doing at the moment,” Luz added, “Running the whole Isles certainly seems like it would take a lot of time and effort.”

“It does.”

“But,” Luz continued, bringing one finger up, “I’m sure if you asked to talk to her about it, she’d make the time.”

“I know she would,” Amity replied, casting her gaze over the meadow again, “but I wasn’t just talking about her.”

“You mean your parents.”

“I never even  _ really _ wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven. I mean, I did, but that was more because it was one of the options my parents considered acceptable. Just like how the Abominations track was the best option to complement Edric and Emira’s focus on illusions. The physical and the mental, brains and brawn, a face to the light and two to the shadows. All to meet mother’s perfect little vision.”

“What about your dad?”

“What about him?” Amity replied, acid to her tone. “I used to think that he was some sort of noble figure. Showing us kindness behind our mothers’ back while he stood by and let her rob us of our childhoods. Now I can see him for what he was; a coward, plain and simple.”

“He’s still your dad, Amity,” Luz protested.

“Tell him that.”

Her voice came out like a whisper, no, a rasp. No force to it. Not even much of a condemnation. Just that sad sort of ache that filled her chest every time she thought of the man who used to tell her stories in the dead of night. Who’d leave her books on the edge of her desk before he left for some business trip or another. Who’d parrot half of her mother’s commands to give the illusion that he held any power in the relationship.

Amity hated her mother; that much was simple fact. There was no way she could ever hope to deny that sharp edge of her heart that still lurked behind all the progress she’d made. That spiteful, vindictive piece of her that had been forged from birth to grant her the “edge to succeed,” as her mother had always called it.

She’d whittled it down from a sword to a knife, and then that to a dagger. But it was still there. Still sharp. And she had no illusions about the fact that, if her mother were standing in front of her, even now, that she’d sink it between her ribs and be done with it. As the world slowly bled back into focus, she started at the sheer tension laced into every bone and sinew.

“Hey,” Luz was saying, voice small and apologetic, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Amity began, “I shouldn’t ha—”

“Amity, what did I tell you?” Her voice was clear, stern even. Amity forced herself to meet her gaze, and that tenderness had gone. No… It had changed. Shifted form into something else, something almost protective. Luz’s hand went to her face, and she let herself melt into the touch.

“You’ve told me a lot of things,” Amity whispered, “You’d have to be more specific.”

“There is absolutely nothing for you to apologize to me for,” Luz intoned, each word deliberate. “Your emotions are  _ not _ these crazy burdens that you have to carry alone. If they  _ were _ too much for me, I would tell you.”

“I, I don’t—”

“Have I told you they were too much for me?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then don’t assume they are.”

“I—” Amity began, feeling her voice cut out. That stare. That damnable  _ stare _ . There was nothing she could do to resist it. It almost made her feel naked, the way it stripped away layer after layer of insecurity. Not removing them, certainly not destroying them. More just a sort of… pushing away. They were set to the side, issues for later. Amity flushed at the thought.

“I don’t want to talk about this sort of stuff right now. We’ve had such a nice day and I don’t want to ruin it… for myself.”

Luz nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. Her other hand found Amity’s waist, and before she could resist, she found herself pulled into a hug.

“That’s fine,” Luz whispered, the proximity of it sending chills down Amity’s spine that had nothing to do with the weather, “but make me a promise?”

“Anything.”

“Talk to  _ someone  _ about it, please? If not me, then someone else that you trust. I can tell that it’s eating you up from the inside. It’s not healthy to keep that all inside.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Amity, please. If not for you, then for me.”

“Fine, I will,” Amity whispered back, “On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“Don’t keep trying to put on an act for me,” Amity replied, pulling back to look Luz dead in the eye. “It’s fine if you actually feel that way, but you don’t need to pretend to be all confident and suave for me. I like the normal, genuine, kind of nervous Luz more. It makes me feel less out of place for being anxious.”

“ _ Como desees, hermosa. _ ”

“Make that two conditions,” Amity added, frustrated.

“Demanding, aren’t you?”

“You’re going to have to teach me how to speak that language of yours.”

“Ah, 'that language of mine,'” Luz teased, “How progressive of you.”

“Fine, Spandish.”

“It’s Spanish.  _ Espanol _ , technically.”

Amity fixed her with a stare that would have made Emira proud. She held up for about half a second before flagging hard.

“Fine,” she conceded, “I’ll teach you. Don’t know when I’ll find the time to, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Good. You can start now. What did that last little quip mean?”

“That’s hardly the way to learn a language.”

“Humor me.”

“Well, ‘ _como_ ’ means ‘as,’ and desees means ‘you wish.’”

“And the last part, hermosa was it?”

“ _ Hermosa _ ,” Luz replied, drawing the “o” sound out in that accent of hers. Was she blushing? “It means, well, technically, it translates to beautiful, but I was actually just quoting something and… Amity, you alright  _ brujita _ ?”

“You are," Amity asserted, blushing furiously, "without question, the most well-crafted implement of my embarrassment that the universe could have possibly dropped in my lap.”

“Uhm, than—”

“I’m not done,” Amity continued, cutting her off, “Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re just some elaborate ruse that Edric and Emira are putting on to do me in once and for all.”

She took a moment to collect herself, to try (and fail) to regulate her breathing before saying the next part. Like a fool, she glanced away from Luz’s face, and was forced to confront the reality that Luz was still holding her. Ah well, only one way forward.

“But you clearly aren’t,” she forced out, “which really leaves me with only one course of action.”

“And that would be?” Luz asked, voice shaky.

“I’m just going to have to hold on to you. I can hardly have you just randomly showing up in my life and embarrassing me at the worst possible times.”

“Amity, is this just a really long, drawn-out way of asking me on a second date?”

“If it was, would it be working?”

“Oh, it’s working for me,” Luz replied, smirking devilishly.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re adorable.”

“No, you’re adorable!”

“That was pretty loud,  _ brujita _ .”

“Don’t take this from me, Luz,” Amity demanded, “I just complimented you. You’re suitably embarrassed, and I’ve scored a point on you.”

“You’ve scored a point on me?” Luz asked, incredulous.

“I have.”

“Hey, Amity?”

“Yes, Luz?”

“You’re kind of a dork. You know that, right?”

“I’ve been told once or twice. Is that a deal-breaker?”

“The opposite, really,” Luz admitted. Once again, Amity was reminded of how close they still were. Of how neither of them seemed willing to be the first one to break the embrace. And, just as wonderful, how little she cared if anyone saw them like his. She wanted to show her exactly how that made her feel, but she didn’t.

“Good,” she said instead, because anxiety is a fiendish little creature, “because you still owe me Spanish lessons. And a song. And another date, considering that I’ve asked you out and you said yes.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“I took your borderline inappropriate response as an affirmative.”

“Fair enough,” Luz responded, smiling, “I’m racking up quite a bit of debt to you, aren’t I?”

“Seems like it, but that’s all just part of my evil plan.”

“And what might that be, oh mistress of evil?”

“To wrap you up in so many layers of obligation and genuine interest that you never even  _ want  _ to leave me.”

“Don’t I get a choice in the matter?”

“You can choose where we go tomorrow.”

“Who said anything about tomorrow?”

“I did, just now, but you get to choose where we go, so it’s really all on you.”

Luz took a moment to just stare at her, and Amity once again felt her courage flagging. They made it sound so easy in the books. Strike and parry, riposte and finish. Words exchanged like blades flashing in the light. Clear winners and losers. She felt none of that now, and if she wasn’t dead certain that Luz was in the same bad situation, she probably would have backed off. But then she had to go and open her mouth again.

“How generous, my lady,” Luz teased, “Might I ask where we’re going now? It’s getting pretty late, after all.”

“Back to the Owl House, I think.”

“Might I ask why?”

“Because I’m cashing in one of my debts now.”

“Which one?”

“Your choice.”

“Generous indeed.”

And the two of them finally left each other’s arms, but not before Luz, winning back a dozen points in the process, bowed low and pressed a kiss to the back of Amity’s raised hand. Not even an insistent “ _ Luz! _ ” stopped the human in her tracks, instead only earning her a cocky smile that would seem more at home on  _ Eda’s  _ features than her own.

Which was, by anyone’s conception, entirely unfair. The sort of thing that left no room for parry or riposte, no opening for a counterattack. Just a sputtered protest that died on her lips at the wicked glint in the human’s eyes. Well, that, and another contemplation on just how much pressure her ribs could take before her heart shattered them entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to all of you a merry Christmas. I hope that you all enjoyed this fluffy, sickeningly sweet sort-of present. As always, thanks for reading!


	13. Ojo del Tigre

There’s a song, Luz is pretty sure, about an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, or maybe a movie? Regardless, it doesn’t really get the point across about how one can often be the other. Or how it’s no fun to be either.

Of all things,  _ that _ thought flashed through her mind as she ducked under a punch thrown by something vaguely resembling a tree trunk that threatened to take her head off by sheer force of impact. Lightning quick, a root darted between her legs, only to be followed by another, and another. Practically dancing her way across the sparring ring, the human desperately tried to make her way to safer ground, only to find each haven cut off in rapid succession. 

_ She needed an opening, a window, and fast, or this fight was going to go the same way as the last one. _

The slightest motion brought a pair of cards to her hand. Thorns lashed across her arm, cuts opening before they immediately resealed. With a practiced motion, the glyphs soared through the air before exploding into twin bursts of flame. Just as she’d expected, the figure ahead of her didn’t take well to the sudden burst of heat. Stumbling back from the explosion was a humanoid creature, roughly seven feet in height, composed entirely of vines and roots, its body armored with thick plates of bark. Where its face ought to have been was a smooth, featureless plane of wood, the only blemish on its surface a pair of narrow slits that burned with green fire.

Luz would be impressed with Willow’s level of control were it not for the fact that the thing seemed to be  _ actively trying to kill her. _

She backed away from it, the stubborn insistence it showed on staying near the center of the ring working to her favor. As they had before, roots pressed up against her back once she got past a certain point, keeping her fewer than a dozen feet away. This thing may have had no ranged attacks to speak of, but it could sure keep her from using that fact against it. She’d tried burning the barrier away, but the roots were heavy with water and nearly as thick around as her waist. Trying to escape was pointless.

Fair enough. If the idea was to hedge her in and force her to fight up close, she’d oblige. Willow might have been her best friend, but she  _ did not  _ know who she was messing with. She was Luz freaking Noceda, the witch who’d ended an empire, and she was hardly going to let the  _ dandelion knight _ be the thing that tripped her up.

_ So she ran straight towards it. _

The first blow splintered against the warding magic of her cloak, an arm held beneath it to bring it in front of her like a shield. The second met a flame glyph head-on, and Luz took advantage of the opening to slap an ice glyph to its chest. Dodging back, she completed the motion with another flame glyph, then activated the last two at once. 

Steam erupted between them, and she watched as the creature stumbled back from the unexpected heat. Clarity flashed to the fore as she took in its gait, the lumbering steps that were only made possible by the network of tiny roots that shot from the earth and anchored each stride. No wonder this thing wanted to stay in one place - it could barely even move on its own!

Her revelation was disrupted by the ground directly ahead of her exploding, wickedly barbed vines ripping their way free on their collision course towards her face. The world narrowed to a single point. The creature, still stumbling. The opening her eyes picked out.

_ The window she’d been looking for. _

Winding her way between two thorn-wrapped vines, Luz spun with their force, an ice-edged card cleaving its way through a third that had snuck up behind her. Fanning a handful of flame glyphs from her sleeve, Luz finished her turn, activating them in tandem, and transformed the world ahead of her into a firestorm. She’d expected the smoke, forcing her eyes to stay open despite the tears every passing wisp ripped from the corners of them. 

What she hadn’t expected was the punch that followed.

It hit her like a freight train, driving all the air from her lungs, no, likely  _ destroying  _ her lungs. Again, there was that immediate double sensation of mind-numbing pain and sudden relief, Viney’s magic repairing her body as quickly as Willow broke it. It was the only thing that gave her the wherewithal to stumble backward, the creature immediately following its attack with the only the second aggressive move it had made the entire match; a stumbling, untethered charge towards her.

_ Which was exactly what she needed. _

Luz made a show of flagging against its onslaught of attacks, magic and body turned to nothing but defense. Fists met pillars of ice that splintered into powder on impact. Flashes of light and bursts of flame distracted and stunned the creature just enough to throw its aim off. Turning away from the next flash, Luz flipped the top of her sixth and newest pouch, slamming a pair of glyphs into the ground beneath her.

The ground beneath her shifted as the earth glyphs flared into life. The floor of the ring buckled and split, a pair of localized mudslides finally managing to put some distance between her and the creature. Unable to properly root itself in the dirt beneath its feet, Luz couldn’t help but grin at the misfortune of the monster that had, up until that very moment, had her on the ropes. 

_ Don’t get cocky, Noceda. Finish the illusion. _

Luz made a show of being just as off-balance as the creature. Which actually took more effort than she thought it would considering how, no matter how much the earth beneath her feet seemed to shift, her footing was sure, balance certain. 

Unfortunately, her trick hadn’t held it off as long as she’d hoped. When its smaller roots had failed to keep it in place, the creature instead resorted to enlisting its own barrier to steady itself. Sufficiently fortified against her latest trick, it roared into the space between them, its body growing with each successive vine it absorbed to pull itself forward. Luz took a breath and slipped a card into her hand, crushing it in her fist. Heat seared her palm, before giving over to an odd mix of scorching burns and soothing cold that gave her the clarity she needed.

The creature was all but upon her when she threw herself out of its path, hitting the undisturbed ground of the ring hard. Pushing even more magic into her glyph, Luz spun to face it, arm pulled back. Taking full opportunity of its lumbering gait, she ducked under a hastily thrown hammer-blow and drove her fist - still clenched around the flame glyph - directly into its jaw. Tongues of fire burst from between her fingers, burns instantly healing in that now-familiar medley of pain and relief that fell away before the raw triumph that accompanied a blow driven home.

The lower half of the mask shattered, bits of flaming bark seeming to fall around her in slow-motion as the face beneath was revealed. Triumph extinguished as she took in the smile it held. Vines, ripping their way through the earth, wrapped around both of them, but rather than holding her in place for a finishing blow, Luz found herself dragged to the opposite end of the circle. 

The vines carrying her opponent did so at a far more comfortable pace before condensing into the shape of a cozy looking chair and depositing their master in her seat. Bark and branch fell away to reveal a grinning, tired Willow. Though the witch was trying to hide it, Luz took a fierce satisfaction from the way her chest heaved and sweat dripped down her brow.

It wasn’t a silence that settled over them so much as it was a sense of tired resignation. Of mutual exertion. Of pain catching up from three blows back and the soreness that refused to fade no matter how much of Viney’s magic ran through their tired muscles. Of adrenaline refusing to diminish, leaving their bodies tense and prepared for round two. 

Well, round four technically. Two days in, and Luz hadn’t once managed to land so much as a single direct hit against the witch. From the moment they’d begun, Willow had just wrapped herself in plant-life and started swinging, barely giving Luz a minute to adjust to the fact that she’d  _ done that _ , let alone figure out how she was supposed to respond to it. The answer, up until the moment she’d landed that one beautiful hit, had been “get the tar beat out of her,” but now, held aloft by a pillar of vines, she realized just how truly out of her depth she was.

Still, she’d landed a hit, finally, and there wasn’t a thing in the world that could take the grin off of her face for it.

~---~

“That was quite the punch you threw,” Willow finally called up to her, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, well my mom’s a nurse,” Luz responded, breathless. The vines holding her began to draw back into the earth at a gesture from Willow, and she sighed in relief that the witch seemed to consider the match over.

“Meaning?” Willow asked, curious. The vines withdrew fully, leaving Luz flat on her back on her side of the ring.

“Meaning,” Luz responded, pushing herself up into a sitting position, “that she knows all too well what happens to people who can’t defend themselves, and she took the steps to make sure I wouldn’t be in that position.”

“I feel like your mom and I would get along well.”

“Oh she’d love you,” Luz admitted, groaning as she rose to her feet, “probably wouldn’t be too psyched about you beating the crap out of me though.”

“You aren’t actually hurt, are you?” Willow asked, suddenly nervous, eyes darting to Viney, who tiredly waved back at the pair of them before all but collapsing against the stump behind her.

“What? No. I mean, I’m sore, but that’s pretty much it.”

“Good,” Willow sighed, settling back in her chair, “because there are at least two people in this clearing who would have had my head if I left so much as a scratch on you.”

Luz felt a bit of heat rise to her cheeks at the implication, at the way Willow wasn’t even  _ trying  _ to lower her voice, but pushed it away and (almost) managed to avoid her gaze flicking to Amity. Of course, Willow picked up on it immediately, and the sly grin that crossed her face at the sight almost made her wish she was still pummeling her. Willow tapped her glasses, dismissing the tiny creepers that had kept them in place, and pushed them up on her nose.

“So how’d you do it?” She asked, tone suddenly serious. Almost… chiding?

“How’d I do what?”

“Luz, you might be able to defend yourself, but you  _ aren’t _ a fighter. You don’t have the experience to pick up on my tells. At least, not as well as you did.”

“Awfully cocky of you, Wills.”

“Not cocky, confident. If I can put Stryder on her back, you shouldn’t have been able to land a punch on me.”

“Who?”

God, the expression that crossed Willow’s face at the question made Luz want to curl up in a ball and die. At least it wasn’t directed  _ at  _ her. Couldn’t help but feel sorry for this “Stryder” person though.

“Doesn’t matter,” Willow replied, tone dangerous. Luz decided to drop it, but still...

“Where’d  _ you  _ even learn to fight like that?” She asked, “Last I checked, you were more gardener than guardian of the forest.”

“I picked up some courses in the Construction track.”

“The Construction track teaches people how to fight like  _ that _ ?”

Willow had the audacity to look mystified, as if it were somehow an odd question to ask why a bunch of construction workers would need to know hand-to-hand combat.

“How else are they going to defend the construction sites?”

“Defend them from who?”

“Luz,” Willow said simply, gesturing to the space around them. Far in the distance, she could see a flock of wild griffins wheeling in lazy circles before something flicked a  _ tentacle  _ out of a nearby cloud and pulled one of the beasts into its billowy confines.

“Yeah, that actually makes a lot of sense.”

Willow laughed in response, forcing herself up from her chair with a groan, vines losing form and withering as she left. Which, come on, was just really freaking cool.

“So,” Luz began, rocking back and forth on her heels, “does this mean that I’ve passed your part of training?”

“After three matches?” Willow replied with a grin, “Hardly. For one, I don’t even know how you managed to pick that up so quickly. You could just be that good,” Willow added, clearly not convinced, “or you’re doing something with your magic that’s letting you get an edge on me. Either way, we’re going to keep beating this into you until you know what it is and can do it at will.”

“And how long is that going to take?”

“Why?” Willow asked, smirking, “You got other plans? Maybe a job lined up? Something else to fill your time?”

“Maybe I do,” Luz huffed, indignant.

“Some _ thing _ Luz, not some _ one _ . There’ll be plenty of time for that, but for now, Eda’s charged me with teaching you how to defend yourself the old-fashioned way. I’d have done it on my own, but she called in a favor, so we’re doing this until  _ she’s  _ satisfied.”

Something about the way her voice curled around the word made Luz think that it was more of a “Favor,” in the same way her and Amity’s connection was more of a “Bond.” She wondered if there weren’t other words she needed to be aware of that had that sort of magical, “something lost in translation,” eternally binding vibe. Maybe there was a “Promise,” or even some kind of “Agreement.” Knowing the Isles, if they did exist, they’d either give her a power boost or trap her in a plane of endless torment. You know, as such things tend to do.

“So I should get ready for daily pummelings from here on out?” She asked, dreading the answer.

“Ideally, they’d get less and less common as we move forward.”

“Yeah, ideally,” Luz muttered.

“Hey,” Willow replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Just do what you did last time, and you should be golden.” She squeezed gently, which really was incompatible with the sheer amount of  _ menace  _ that gesture carried. “Unless, of course, it was a fluke. In which case, well, night’s always darkest before dawn.”

“Great,” Luz replied, forcing snark into her tone to hide the chill running down her spine.

“Ready to go again?” 

“I guess we coul-”

“Or,” Viney interjected, voice thick with exhaustion, “we could give the healer a break?”

“Sorry, Viney!” Willow called back, “got caught up in things. Take as long as you need.”

Luz followed her gaze back to the onlookers. Gus was busy explaining something to Eda that required the usage of at least three separate notebooks, but her mentor at least spared her a glance and a wink over his shoulder. Amity was attending to Viney, who looked more on the edge of exhaustion than either of them. Guilt and embarrassment panged her in equal measure. 

Guilt for Viney, who’d really been a champion, and whose griffin-tuned healing magic had proved more than up to the task of keeping either herself or Willow from doing any real damage to one another. Embarrassment for Amity, who’d she finally convinced to take the time to come to a training session, only for it to be a series of one-sided fistfights that couldn’t have been fun to watch.

Despite that, the moment Amity’s eyes flicked to her own, she couldn’t help the sense of relief that washed over her at Luz being alright. Wait, she was Luz. Why would?...

_ Ah, right. _

Luz searched for the little thread of magic that she’d come to associate with their Bond, that tenuous line of energy that had let them share little flashes of emotion. It certainly wasn’t a thread anymore. More of a stream really, flowing both ways, letting emotions move back and forth almost unhindered. Her first instinct was to clamp it shut, or at least most of the way. It felt… wrong, somehow, to have that little of a barrier between them. Almost inappropriate. But hey, she’d always been impulsive.

So she pushed just the barest bit of deliberate attraction Amity’s way as she walked over to her. Nothing bad, just let herself properly take in how cute she looked holding a glass of water for Viney, concern writ across her features. It didn’t really occur to her that Amity wasn’t exactly prepared for that sort of thing. To say she blushed would have been an understatement. She practically  _ combusted _ , her face skipping every shade beyond pink and descending into a deep, tomato red. Her eyes immediately shot to Luz, accusation at the fore, and the human flagged beneath the sudden glare.

The Bond cut from the other end, but not before Luz got a peek at the cocktail of emotions that was heading her way. Embarrassment, of course, but what was that other one? Like excitement, but deeper, and tinged with attrac-

_ Oh. _

It was Luz’s turn to blush, but she could hardly just stop in her tracks, so instead, she found herself standing opposite Amity, Viney gratefully gulping down a glass of water between them.

“Thanks Amity, I really needed tha-” Viney cut off, eyes flicking between the two of them and their convincing impression of a pair of chrysanthemums. “I’ll uh, I’ll just leave you two be. Great work out there Luz,” she added as she walked off to meet Willow, a chuckle escaping her lips. 

“She’s right,” Amity mumbled out, eyes not leaving the ground, “you looked great out there. I mean, you were great out there. With the punching and the, you know, the glyphs…”

“Amity, I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Amity asserted, cutting her off. “We don’t need to talk about it. It was accidental, and I wasn’t really thinking, and there’s no way you could have known how it would work, so I don’t blame you for not being able to control it-”

“Well, that last bit may have been intentional…” Luz admitted, looking up to find Amity already staring at her, eyes wide, ears perked up.

“You,” Amity sputtered out, seemingly at a loss for words. “Well, obviously mine wasn’t intentional.”

“You still felt it though,” Luz teased, grinning.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then teach me.”

“Oh, what, like I’m an expert on Bonds all of a sudden?”

“You know more than I do, which isn’t saying much,” Luz conceded, “but at least it’s something.”

“Well I haven’t had the opportunity to find the books on the topic,” Amity replied, blush finally beginning to fade. “I’ve been busy. Maybe we could look for them tonight?”

“Ah, right, totally forgot we were doing that tonight,” Luz admitted, kicking herself at the hurt expression that crossed Amity’s features. “Not that I’m not excited for it,” she quickly amended, “just got caught up in the whole ‘getting the stuffing kicked out of me’ thing. Probably got a few things knocked loose, to be completely honest.”

“Well I hope it wasn’t anything important,” Eda cut in, wrapping an arm around Luz’s shoulders, “because I know for a fact that all of your human organs are in the wrong spots anyway. It would be a nightmare trying to get you fixed up.”

“Gee, that’s encouraging,” Luz sighed, really hoping that nothing actually  _ had  _ been knocked out of place.

“What are you two lovebirds going on about over here anyways?” Eda continued, driving the red right back into Amity’s cheeks.

“Just talking about what we’re going to work on at the library later,” Luz responded.

“Ah, right, your little study date.”

“It’s not a date!” Amity sputtered out, getting only a laugh from Eda in response.

“Yeah, sure kid. If that’s the case, you ought to have told this one,” the witch quipped, scuffing Luz’s hair as she did, “she was going on and on this morning about how you were going to decipher half a dozen glyphs in one night. Wouldn’t shut up about how smart you are, how easy it would be to figure them out with you-”

“Eda!” Luz protested, pushing out from under her arm and fixing the witch with a glare.

“What? It’s true,” she replied, smirking.

“Didn’t you have something you needed to do tonight?”

“What, my scavenging? It’s hardly a time-sensitive job. Especially having to drag this one and his little club along,” she added, gesturing to Gus.

“That doesn’t stop you from loading us up with stuff for the stall,” he called back, hands cupped to project his voice across the clearing.

“You’re earning your keep!”

“I don’t even live here!”

“Weird how you’re here all the time then,” Eda muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Luz nodded to Gus in solidarity. She couldn’t count the number of times they’d had to forgo the staff so that they could lug all of her mentor’s “treasures,” by foot, into the marketplace, only for nine out of every ten things to never sell.

“Anyways,” Eda continued, “the reason I came over here wasn’t just to mess with you, though that is always fun. Lily actually sent a messenger my way while Willow was pounding you into the dirt. Apparently, she needs me to mediate some sort of dispute between a couple of wild witches the next town over. I’ll probably be gone for the next few days, so training is on hold.” 

“Which means,” she added, enunciating each syllable clearly, “that I’m leaving you and King alone while I’m gone. So no holding of illicit summonings and getting caught, no repeats of the ‘Hooty’s Moving House’ incident, and no declarations of war on foreign powers. Everything else is fair game.”

“ _ Everything  _ else?” Luz teased, eyebrows raised.

“Use your best judgment kid,” Eda replied, smirking, “and remember that I’ve got eyes everywhere these days.”

Luz nodded in response, turning to Amity, who was once again working her way down the saturation slider of blushing. Slowly, carefully, she pushed at the Bond, waiting for Amity’s response, and was delighted when the witch released her hold on it ever so slightly. Not enough for anything to make its way across passively, but more than enough for her to send a deliberate burst of encouragement her way. She smiled softly, and Luz joined in, her mission accomplished.

“Well, that’s gross,” Eda interjected, cutting the moment down where it stood. “I’m headed out before you two start finishing each other’s sentences or something equally disturbing. Oh, and baby Blight,” she added, catching Amity’s attention, “your siblings are supposed to let me know if you spend the night anywhere other than  _ your  _ bed. Just something to keep in mind.”

At that, Eda left the pair of them in the dust, calling her staff to her hand and yelling to Gus to do the same before she “left him to find the spot on his own.” He obliged, and after a quick goodbye to the gathered witches, flew off with her into the distance. Luz warmed herself against the chill afternoon air by the literal pyre that Amity had become, laughing slightly at the way her ears fluttered in (apparent) embarrassment.

Willow and Viney joined them soon after, pulling Amity partially out of her state, and the four tossed a few jokes and congratulations back and forth before Willow’s scroll started shaking violently. Scowling, the witch looked down at it, and Luz was impressed to see her mood somehow get worse. Her fingers stabbed at the screen, and by the time she dismissed it, she was practically fuming.

“Something wrong, Willow?” Amity asked, beating Luz to it.

“Oh, nothing,” the witch in question replied, “just something going on in the greenhouses. Apparently, one of the newbies mixed up fertilizers and some of the plants grew the necessary appendages to escape, so it looks like I already know how my night’s going to go.”

“Could you use some air support?” Viney asked, “Lowell’s been pretty hyper lately. Could be good to get him some more time off the ground.”

“I certainly wouldn’t say no,” Willow responded, gratitude apparent in her tone.

“We could help too,” Luz volunteered, only to be met with the botanist’s shaking head.

“That’s sweet of you Luz, but I’m not trying to get between you and your, uh,  _ studies _ .”

“It really wouldn’t be that big of a dea-” Luz began, only for her voice to cut off as a familiar hand found her own and squeezed  _ hard _ .

“Thanks Willow,” Amity replied, “we wouldn’t want Luz to get behind on any of her pre-existing  _ obligations _ .”

“Ah, right. Totally slipped my mind again,” Luz muttered, sheepish.

“No worries,” Viney added, “I’ll dig Emira out of her cave and the three of us will handle it. Those runaways won’t know what hit them.”

“Take Edric too,” Amity joked, “you could always use him for bait.”

“Oh sure,” Viney responded, “that’s why you want us to occupy both of your siblings for the rest of the night.”

Amity tried to sputter out a response, but came up with nothing, instead turning away completely from the laughing beastmaster. Luz felt embarrassment spark up the Bond, accompanied by a little pang of frustration at being caught. Laughing along with Viney, she squeezed the witch’s hand, earning an embarrassed smile out of her.

“Welp,” Willow began, “better get to it before they start organizing and going into hiding. Lilith made it pretty clear that if we had another open plant rebellion, she was going to start taking a closer look at the program.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Luz asked, laughing nervously.

“Bad for anyone who looks where they’re not supposed to,” Willow responded, deadly serious. Nodding one last time to the pair of them, she joined Viney as the latter pulled herself up onto the back of Lowell the griffin, who seemed more than happy to get the opportunity to stretch his wings. Viney tossed a little salute their way before the downdraft forced them to shield their eyes against the mini dust storm that sprang up in his wake. By the time the air cleared, he’d already carried the pair off into the distance, the steadily lowering sun casting their shadow onto the woods below.

Luz watched them go before feeling a faint sense of anxiety creep up on her senses. Closing her eyes, she separated the emotion from her own, turning to Amity to see the witch nervously picking at the corner of her jacket.

“ _ ¿Qué pasa, brujita?” _

Luz could imagine gears turning in her head as Amity turned the words over, attempting to parse out their meaning. They’d only worked through some basic vocabulary, but she had a sneaking suspicion that a certain someone had been reading ahead in the books they’d snagged off of Eda. 

“Nothing much,” Amity replied, voice thin, “just thinking.”

“About?”

“If you’d rather relax, or go hunt down runaway plants with everyone, that’s fine. We don’t have to go to the library tonight.” Luz’s heart broke at the disappointment she was trying (and failing) to hide in her tone. Didn’t even need a Bond to figure that one out.

“Amity,” Luz began, placing a hand under the witch’s chin and bringing her eyes up to meet her own, “why do you think I don’t want to go to the library with you?”

“Well, it’s just that you’ve forgotten about it twice now, which is totally fine! I just, if you don’t want to-”

“ _ Brujita _ ,” Luz replied, gently cutting her off, “I’ve told you before, I barely remember what I ate for breakfast most days. It’s just the way I am. But,” she added, shifting her hand to cup the witch’s cheek, “just because I forget something doesn’t mean it isn’t important to me, alright?  _ Especially  _ when it comes to you.”

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” Amity admitted. “That first time, I totally got it. You had just spent the better part of the last few hours getting knocked around the ring by Willow-”

“Everyone just loves bringing that up, don’t they?”

“And,” Amity continued, chuckling, “I could tell that you were just trying to help Willow out the second time. You never can say no when someone asks for help, can you?”

“Never been my strong suit.”

“I know, which is very endearing. Still, if you’d rather do something else, I’m perfectly fine with that. Eda’s been working you pretty hard lately.”

“Are you implying that I wouldn’t want to go to the magic library in a magical realm to read about magic in my free time?” Luz replied, indignant.

“Suppose I do know you better than that.”

“Exactly,” Luz replied, grinning, “though, if you’re willing, I wouldn’t mind a bit of a delay?”

“For?...”

“Well, I’m pretty caked with dirt and sweat, so a shower at least, and probably a change of clothes.”

“Oh,” Amity replied, flushing slightly, ”I could, you know, I could just wait out here.”

“Amity,” Luz sighed, chuckling.

“Yeah?”

“You’re welcome to just sit and wait in the living room,” she continued, pulling Amity towards the door, “I’m sure King wouldn’t mind the company.”

“But Luz,” Amity protested, “Eda said she had eyes everywhere. I’m really not trying to make an enemy out of the Owl Lady.”

Luz just shook her head, bemused, as she turned the knob and walked into the living room, bringing the sputtering witch with her. Craning her head to look around the room, she made an exaggerated effort of scanning it for any potential surveillance. Shelves were carefully inspected, rugs moved across the floor, furniture tipped and examined for potential listening devices.

“What are you doing?” Amity asked, exasperated.

“Looking for these mysterious eyes that Eda has everywhere.” Luz replied, picking up a bottle, checking the bottom, and setting it down. “We wouldn’t want her to know that you,” Luz paused, dropping her voice to a whisper, “sat in the living room while I took a shower.”

“I just don’t know if it’s appropriate-”

“ _ ¡Dios de arriba!  _ You’re acting like I’m asking you to hop in the shower with me,” Luz joked. It took her a moment before she realized what, exactly, she’d said. Amity seemed too stunned to even blush, so she did it  _ for _ her, putting on her best shade of scarlet and absolutely  _ refusing  _ to meet her gaze.

“Well, I’m going to go do that!” Luz shouted, voice taut, saying it as much to any potential “eyes” as she was to the witch she was pointedly ignoring. “Totally on my own! No one or nothing else with me!”

“Luz,” Amity finally whispered, voice hoarse.

“Yeah,  _ brujita _ ?” Luz responded, suddenly buzzing with anxiety.

“Just go take a shower. I’ll keep King company.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll go do that.”

Before she could embarrass herself any further, Luz darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time before she was certain she was out of sight. Whereupon she immediately pressed her back to the wall, letting herself slide down its surface and pressing her face between her knees. She just needed a minute to put her brain back together. To try and sort through the sheer volume of emotions that were racing through the grey matter and pull some semblance of functional thought out of the thicket.

_ Why was it so much harder to figure out what to say than it had been before? Why was she suddenly some awkward mess now that Amity had shown the faintest bit of interest in her? Or at least, enough to go on two dates with her. Was this library trip a third date? Had she really asked her to?... No, that had been a joke. Had it?  _

One thing she knew for certain was that this Bond thing between them was  _ dangerous _ . Oh sure, it was nice to be able to send a little burst of excitement or encouragement her way from time to time. There was no way she could deny how useful it was to know when Amity was starting to get anxious or frustrated with something. Honestly, she was fairly sure it was the only reason she’d gotten one up on Willow in that last fight. But it was also very, very bad. Because neither of them knew how to control it, and the more they used it, the more things seemed to slip through.

And, well, when she’d made her little joke, there’d been one emotion that had cut through all of the embarrassment and anxiety that should have been there. That she was certainly feeling.

_ And it was agreement. _

So Luz took that little bundle of emotions, and she slapped it in a tiny box. And then she took that box, and sealed it inside of a bigger box. For good measure, she wrapped that box in chains, fused the chains to the lock, and then poured cement over the whole thing and dropped it at the bottom of the deepest trench in her mind.

Because there wasn’t enough time between the birth and death of the universe to unpack  _ all of that _ , let alone in the hour tops she had to get ready. 

Which really just left her with one thought. One terrible, lovely, awful, heart-raising, terrifying, exciting, wonderful thought.

And it was that thought that brought an almost painful smile to her face as she leaned against the wall, hands trying and failing to drive the blush from her cheeks. That thought that made her sing without caring who heard her in the shower. That made her care enough to actually have to think about what to wear to the library. That made her dig around in her bags for the bundle of things her mother had insisted on her taking despite her protests to the contrary, pulling makeup out and putting the faintest touch of it on for the first time in three years.

And it was the same thought that carried her down the stairs to a waiting Amity, bag on her back, Codex at her hip, and guitar case in her hand. The very same that made the act of taking  _ her _ hand as they walked out instinctual. And the same that made her laugh a little harder, smile a little brighter, walk with a little more bounce in her step on the way into town.

And honestly, there was really no point in putting words to it, because there was so much more to it than words, but if she had to pick one, there was really only a single option that came close. 

_ But that was a word better left saved for the right moment.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed some changes behind the scenes, especially in regards to the sort of "meta" parts of this. Specifically, I updated the tags, set the number of chapters in the fic, and officially set it as the first in the series. Yep, we're in for the long haul now. As always, thank you so much for your constant support, attention, and feedback on this and all previous chapters. You guys are the reason I keep doing this. And of course, I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Oh, and if you're interested in following along with Willow and Co's adventures in revolution suppression, feel free to check out Catalyst, which can be found here;
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28505871/chapters/69848904


	14. Ghosts of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there are some heavy concepts in this one. Nothing graphic, just some sadness and angst.

The point of coming to the library in the first place had, allegedly, been to catch Luz up on her glyph work. That was, until she’d offered to play Amity another song, and honestly, what was  _ she _ supposed to say to that?  _ No? _ Obviously not. Instead, they’d found the hours of the evening sliding away before they ever had a chance to be acknowledged, the world outside of their hidden nook fading into the background. 

And if anyone were to somehow discover the space hidden behind the library’s (pitifully) small romance collection, they’d have found a sight that would have looked right at home in their pages.

Luz, focused for once, alternating between strumming softly on her guitar and fiddling with one of Gus’ devices; one that was meant to project music from her phone, but only had about a fifty percent success rate. Having long since given up on her attempt to muddle through bile differentials and Bond potentials, Amity had instead given herself over to appreciate the perks of luring a musician into her sanctuary. 

It was like she’d become some ancient witch queen. Body splayed out over a beetlebag throne pushed close to Luz’s, her right foot over the human’s left, both tapping in time to the same rhythm. Her fingers occasionally reaching lazily across the minimal distance between them, intertwining for a moment between songs. All accompanied by her personal bard, running through a litany of songs whose lyrics would normally make her blush furiously, but only served to drive her deeper into the haze of the moment.

“Ask me something,” Luz huffed, and it took Amity awhile to realize that the words had left her lips, let alone to formulate a response.

“Ask you something?” she replied blearily, repetition masking her return to reality.

“Yeah,” Luz grumbled, “because this thing is not cooperating with me, and I need something to take my mind off of it before it ruins the mood.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to ruin the mood,” Amity hummed, eyes cast to the ceiling, pulling her thoughts down from where they’d drifted hours ago. “How do you say ‘content’ in Spanish?”

“What?”

“You told me to ask you something,” Amity reminded her, “that’s my question.”

“ _ Contento.” _

“Contento?” Amity asked, despising how clumsily the words tumbled past her lips. The furthest cry from the effortless fluidity Luz managed.

“Close,” Luz replied, laughing, “but you have to draw the word out a bit. There’s a good amount of movement to it, but it’s constrained.  _ Cone-ten-tow, _ ” she added, sounding the word out for her benefit.

“ _ Contento. _ ”

“There we go, perfect!”

“It’s hardly perfect,” Amity amended, slowly bringing her gaze to meet Luz’s own, “but I suppose it’ll have to do for now.” The blush that crept across the human’s cheeks was brilliant. It was so much easier to mess with her here; away from prying eyes and ears, where the only witness to her potential embarrassment was the girl in front of her. Here, at least, there was a lazy variant of the back-and-forth she’d read about.

“Why’d you want to know that, anyway?” Luz asked, breaking her from her reverie.

“Because that’s how I feel. Completely and utterly  _ contento _ .”

“Hmm,” Luz responded, master of words that she was, “and why’s that?”

“Oh, no clue,” Amity teased. “Maybe it’s because I’ve got my own little accompaniment to my thoughts, provided by an increasingly flustered yet adorable musician who just so happens to be one of my favorite people in the Isles.”

“ _ One  _ of your favorites, huh? Someone else I should know about?”

“I have to include Edric in any listing of favorite people or he’ll mope about it for days.”

“Doubt he’s listening in right now,” Luz added, a sly grin cutting across her features.

“True though that may be,” Amity admitted, adopting a grin to match, “it’s about the principle.”

“How fortunate of him to have such a considerate sister.”

“Oh yes, well someone has to make up for Emira’s  _ scandalous _ behavior.”

Luz laughed in earnest at that one; a warm, comforting sound that sent an odd buzzing sensation across the witch’s skin. Amity reveled in it, closing her eyes and seizing upon the thread of magic between them. Like everything else in the room, it seemed to lazily drift about in some unseen current. As if sensing her focus on it, the thread brightened, and with the barest hint of effort, she sent a burst of contentment down the line. The human jumped in her seat, shaking her head as her grin widened.

“Now who’s abusing the Bond,” she admonished, chuckling lightly.

“I never said you were abusing it.”

“Oh no, you only made it out like I’d committed some unthinkable taboo by actually using the thing.”

“Like I said, I’m only able to go off of what I’ve read. The only Bond in my household was between Edric and Emira. I’ve no precedent for someone being able to transmit their emotions to me and receive mine in turn.”

“Your parents didn’t have a Bond?” Luz asked, suddenly curious, pushing herself to a proper sitting position to get a better look at the witch beside her.

“They considered it inappropriate and crude,” Amity muttered darkly, more quotation than original thought. “A relic of an older time that ought to stay in the past where it belonged. They couldn’t stop Ed and Em, but they themselves weren’t the sort of couple that met the base requirements to form that kind of connection.”

“Do uh, do couples usually form Bonds?”

“It’s common enough,” Amity responded, too caught up in her thoughts to catch Luz’s particular tone, “but a true Bond is built on a preexisting sense of mutual trust, love, and respect between two witches. The majority of Bonds are platonic, like with Gus and Willow, or form between close family members.”

“You pick all of that up from those books?”

“Some of it. I’d intended to find out more tonight, but I’ve been suitably distracted,” Amity replied, meeting Luz’s gaze again and delighting in the faint blush that crept across her cheeks. “I’m hardly complaining though,” she added, hesitating for a moment before running a finger along the human’s jaw, the motion mixing another layer of red into her flushed expression.

She started as Luz’s hand caught her own. Chills ran up her spine as a thumb found and ran across her pulse, a motion she knew was subconscious for the human, but that never failed to drive an intensity of feeling to her core that lit her face ablaze.

“There are, uh,” she stammered, feeling her composure begin to slip, cursing the smug look that crept across the human’s face as she did, “there are irregularities in  _ this  _ Bond, however.”

“By all means,  _ brujita _ ,” Luz murmured, “fill me in on the irregularities in our Bond.”

“Well, for starters, as far as most are aware, Bonds only form between witches, so one forming between a  _ human _ and a witch is odd.” She was trying, Titan, she was  _ trying  _ to focus. But the way Luz’s eyes just bored into her quickened her breath so much that each word sounded choppy and unsure. “And it’s- it is also unusual for the Bond to be so… intense after a relatively short time of knowing each other.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Luz breathed, bringing their joined hands to her neck.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Just trust me.”

“I don’t, I have no idea-”

_ And then she felt it. _

She’d placed their hands at the side of her neck, directly over her pulse. Amity felt her breath in slowly, then out, only to close her eyes, lost in the moment. Closing hers as well, she realized that a faint thrumming flickered beneath her palm. Rhythmic and certain, slow and methodical where hers was threatening to hammer out of her chest. But eventually, held in that moment of tranquility, her pulse began to slow.

Their hearts began to beat in time, and Amity could sense the way her control over the Bond was loosening, the few barriers she’d place swept away with each successive beat. Like a flower opening to face the sun. But that sort of magic was a two-way street, and as much as she wanted to lower her barriers, there was still resistance from the other end.

Opening her eyes, she found a pair of brown irises already firmly fixed on her own. They were close, far too close, but already that didn’t seem to matter. Whatever  _ this  _ was between them, it was intimate, familiar, but whatever physical distance kept them apart was nothing compared to the chasms they hadn’t yet crossed in their hearts.

“What is it?” Amity whispered, voice hoarse. Emotions warred across the human’s face, and the witch worried she was about to pull away, but then she felt the faintest spark of acceptance, of this deep,  _ aching  _ sadness that settled like a weight in her chest.

“What you said, I don’t know, I guess it made me think about  _ my  _ mom and dad.”

“You’ve never mentioned your fa- your dad before.”

“Hasn’t really come up before.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” Amity began, trailing off when she realized she didn’t have anything else to say. What was there to say? Sorry I never asked if your father was alive or not? If he was a part of your life?

“He’s around,” Luz admitted, snapping her out of it, “he’s just not really, you know,  _ around _ . Or at least he wasn’t until a couple of years ago.”

“What changed?” Amity asked, curious.

“I didn’t come home from summer camp.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, my mom was pretty beside herself when the end of summer came and went and it turned out she’d been getting letters from someone that wasn’t me. She ended up calling in every favor she could looking for me. She’s a nurse- Kind of like our healers,” Luz added, noticing Amity’s confusion, “and she’s gotten pretty familiar with most of the first responders in the community over the years. Had quite the search party going by the time I eventually showed up at the edge of the woods. My dad, he’s got a, uh,  _ complicated _ relationship with the law, so he caught wind of it pretty early on.”

The thin smile that crossed Luz’s face held volumes, but she’d drawn the Bond close to her chest, leaving Amity as in the dark as anyone else might have been. It was strange how quickly she’d come to rely on it to gauge the human’s emotions. Made her realize just how good she could be at putting on a mask when she needed to.

“When I showed up, my mom was so happy to see me, and furious, and relieved, and utterly unconvinced that nothing strange had happened.” Her smile turned rueful, eyes distant, and Amity realized that Luz was no longer in the nook. The thoughts that ran through her mind had pulled her back to that night. All of its triumph, but all of its heartbreak too. “I guess he ended up walking into the wrong bar, asking the wrong questions. Landed himself in the hospital. It was a wakeup call for the both of us, I guess, about how much he still cared.”

“Do you-” Amity began, before cutting herself off. Luz’s eyes darted to her, expression clear, and she reopened the Bond ever so slightly, sending a flash of encouragement the witch’s way.

“Do you mind if I ask what happened between your parents?”

Luz drew in a breath at the question, her knees coming up to her chest almost instinctively, but her hand never left Amity’s. After a moment, she squeezed it and opened the Bond further, causing the witch to gasp aloud at the sudden flood of emotions. Sorrow and joy, excitement and anxiety, anger and forgiveness.

“The ending isn't my favorite, but in order to get there, there are some pretty good parts…”

~---~ 

_ It goes something like this. _

Camila Noceda is twenty-two years old, only four years off the boat, and struggling to carve out a place for herself in a hospital that chews nurses up and spits them out faster than they can take them in. She’s in New York City, because of course she is. Every little girl back home has heard all of these wonderful stories about America, the “Land of Opportunity,” and no city screams “America” more than the one that never sleeps. The one that makes, breaks, earns, burns, and reworks dreams every passing second.

_ She loves every minute of it. _

She gets compliments on her english, because of course she does. What other reaction is appropriate when the  _ chavala  _ with a Dominican-flag pin and a name that rattles past her lips like a mantra knows your own language better than you do? Knows your laws better than you do. Actually has to know the difference between a right and a responsibility and whether or not she’s allowed to force a patient to get back in their bed and let her do her job because that’s the only way you’re getting out of here in anything other than a bag.

Oh sure, it’s tiring. The doctor over her is barely half a decade older, but he acts like he’s seen hell when the worst he’s had to work through is a single hundred-hour week that he hasn’t shut up about since it happened. He always fails to mention that she ended up working a hundred and twelve that week, or eighty the week before and after. 

_ But that’s life. The city’s got no end of problems, and approximately one sixth of the worst it can offer ends up in the ER every night. No rest for the wicked. _

The thing is, she’s damned good at her job, but she doesn’t just patch up wounds and get people back out the doors. No, she sits and listens. She asks (and is the first to ask in a very long time) why so many of her patients are returning customers. And even though she’s not a believer, even though - no matter how many times they ask - she’s never even  _ seen _ Mexico, she puts the fear of  _ Santa Muerte  _ into each one of them. And one by one, they stop coming back. She waves to them on the street, passes them in the subway, sees some of the light working its way back into their eyes.

_ Except for one. _

His name is Miguel Guererro, she reads off of his chart, and the light in his eyes is  _ far _ from gone. They blaze with that inner fire, that sort of rage that never abates and never dies down. He quotes  _ Pacheco  _ and  _ Castellanos  _ as she sews a knife wound in his gut, and he sings her praises like she’s the mother of God herself when she pulls a bullet from his thigh. 

He’s on the table three times before she finds out why he keeps showing up. Why he’s handcuffed to the bed when she walks in and has the cuffs off by the time she’s done. He’s a fighter, he tells her, and he’s never known when to stop fighting. And he doesn’t mind his own business. And when he sees someone that doesn’t have that fire in their eyes, that all but sits there and lets the city chew them up into nothing, he can’t help but step in and try to model a bit of fighting back.

_ But it never goes well for him. _

Oh sure, he saves a vagrant here and there from getting what little they have left stolen. He keeps a girl who wandered into the wrong neighborhood from learning just how cruel the world can be. But he always ends up with the hurt they would have taken. He wears it, she realizes, like a badge of honor, and as much of a fool as he is, she can’t help but wonder what sort of trouble he’s getting himself into those few nights she’s not there while trying (and failing) to fall asleep. 

One day, he bites off more than he can chew. She can tell it’s bad from the moment she walks in, the moment the chief catches her eye and flashes her the barest hint of sympathy, that something is wrong. And when she finds him hooked up to enough machines that he all but vanishes beneath the pile, and his face is more pale than she’s ever seen it, something in her breaks, and is reforged, and holds fast.

She takes her time off. All the days she’s saved and never used. God knows she deserves it. And she stays by his side. The only one who stays by his side, because he’s never mentioned family or even friends, and even if he had, there wasn’t a thing in his pockets when they found him on the side of the road. No numbers to call.

And even after those days run out, she doesn’t leave the hospital after her shifts. She sleeps there, eats there. And one day, going on her third night with virtually no sleep, his eyes flutter open, and the light roars back into the world. She asks, practically begs him to put his own life first, for once, and if he won’t do it for himself, she asks him to do it for her. 

He tells her that this city is poisoning them both. That it poisons everything it touches. That everyone who used it to launch a dream already got to the top and pulled the ladder up behind them. That they’re all just fighting over scraps and broken promises. But  _ this _ , he whispers, holding her hands between his, this is something real. This is something that’s worth fighting for.

_ So they leave. _

Camila Guerrero is twenty-six years old, hardly even thinks about life before the boat, and newly transferred to a hospital thirty minutes outside the city who’d be more than happy to take on a nurse who’s been through half the hell she has. Her husband picks up work wherever he can. Odd jobs and labor mostly. Never anything permanent. That record of his always seems to catch up to him. But they get a little apartment that’s around the corner and every morning before they go their separate ways he looks into her eyes and calls her his “ _ razon de ser” _ and the truth in the words lights a fire in her heart that never fades.

_ They’re happy, and when one thing leads to another, there’s another little light in the world to share in that happiness. _

But it’s a flickering light, and their little Luz’s body can’t seem to keep up with all the things she’s destined to do. She’s sick, the doctors tell them, but they can fix it. And the cost doesn’t matter. The time doesn’t matter. Because she’s their little girl, and there isn’t a thing in this world that could keep them from doing everything in their power to make sure she gets every opportunity they never had.

But the bills start to pile up, and one-and-a-half checks a week isn’t going to cover it. So he goes to find work, anything that’ll take him, and he finds a man who recognizes the fire in his eyes and knows a fighter when he sees one. They lure him in with promises of fighting from afar. Of never having to even so much as look at sand. They train him, and they congratulate him, and they introduce him to another man who’d never otherwise give him the time of day who helps him buy a house for his wife and their daughter.

_ And all it costs is a tour. _

They call it a tour. Like it’s some kind of vacation. Like they aren’t asking him to gear up, make peace with God, and walk into perdition itself one day after another. By the time he comes back, some of that light has gone out of his eyes. The light she never thought would diminish. He cries in his sleep. Names she’s never heard before; that he’ll never say when the sun shines through the window.

Miguel Guerrero is twenty-seven years old, born and raised in the Bronx, and even when he comes home he doesn’t feel like that’s a word that holds meaning anymore. Because where he really belongs is the Desert. That place that doesn’t have a name. That chews fighters up and spits them out faster than it can take them in. He’s in the Desert, even when he’s not, because of course he is. Every little boy on his block heard all these stories about the place when they were little. When the men would come by with their too-wide grins and shiny uniforms and promise them an adventure, an opportunity to make a difference and serve their country. And what’s more American than that? 

But everytime he thinks he’s done, something else comes up. They need to cover the mortgage, he still has his own medical bills that suddenly need to be paid, the roof has a leak and the whole thing needs to be replaced. But his little light is happy, and she’s walking now, and the first word out of her mouth is “ _ papá _ ” and that’s all it takes for him to realize that she’s worth anything and everything all at once. Even if it burns him to the quick and still asks for more.

_ So he goes on another tour. And another. _

A part of Camila thinks she should be happy that he doesn’t cry in his sleep anymore, but it’s hard to do so when he just lies there, rigid, eyes open but uneesing. Sunlight catches in streams of tears that etch his face without him even realizing they’re there. He hears things, and he sees things, and she watches how, when Luz drops her toys on the floor without one morning, he takes one look at her and his body tenses and he locks himself in their room for seven hours straight.

She argues with him sometimes, and the moment his voice begins to raise his eyes go dim and he walks out the front door. He doesn’t take the car, doesn’t leave for days at a time, doesn’t spend every waking moment at the bar like she’s heard of some of his friends doing, but she almost wishes that he did. Because the light in his eyes is so dim, and she thought it would never diminish.

And the only time it comes out is when he looks at them. Kindled blaze giving some life back to his face. They have good days, and sometimes they have really good days, but the Desert never leaves him, and even after they send him back with a paper clutched in his fist and a leg made of plastic and steel, it  _ stays _ with him. It’s the shadow that flickers at the back of his eyes, the clouds that pass over the sun that’s still in there, somewhere, and makes him retreat into the background.

_ And then he almost hits her. _

He doesn’t make contact, but the blow sails past her head and takes out a chunk of the drywall the size of a dinner plate. He tells her that he caught her out of the corner of his eye as he walked in, and then he sits down at the table and he sobs like he’s just watched her die in front of him. The next day he’s gone, a single suitcase in hand, and an insistence rattling past his lips like a mantra.

_ He loves them. He will never stop loving them. But he’s broken, and he doesn’t know if he can be fixed. And if they ever hurt themselves on his broken edges, what’s left of him would shatter. _

Camila Noceda is thirty-two years old, fourteen years off the boat, and struggling to find her way with her daughter in tow and a memory for a husband. She’s thirty minutes outside of New York City, because of course she is. She can’t leave the city behind because it’s a part of her, but she can’t move back because there’s nothing to move back too. There’s a fire in her daughter’s eyes, like her father before her, and six-years-old or not, she’s hellbent on making the world a better place already.

But she’s growing up in a world that doesn’t quite get her. Where everyone’s different and just trying to figure out where they belong and changing themselves ever so slightly to fit, but she’s interested in none of it. She’s her own person, different from everyone else by a mile, and already telling the world exactly what she wants from it.

Every Christmas and birthday, she gets a card and a little carved animal from a man whose name she no longer carries. The beasts start off crude, but he gets better with each year, and slowly but surely she’s built a menagerie on her shelves. They look nothing like actual animals, at first by accident, but eventually on purpose, and the strangeness of them makes her seek out worlds where they might live. And every time she loses herself in one of those fantasies, she can forget about the fact that she wasn’t meant for this one either for a few blissful moments.

Something in her makes up stories for why her friends have dads who give them normal presents in person and she doesn’t. She imagines that he’s on a secret mission, undercover and waiting for the moment when he’s needed most to save the world. Other times, she tells herself that he’s trapped in another world entirely, his only means of communication the messages and gifts he sends twice a year. 

But that doesn’t explain the letter her mom gets in the mail every month. The way she purses her lips each time, takes something out of the envelope, and puts it in a box she keeps by her bed. “For college,” she explains, and that’s the end of that. And when Luz is old enough to realize what she means, the illusion crumbles around her, but she puts on a brave face, and resolves herself to the fact that there aren’t other worlds to be trapped in. That normal people don’t get to save an entire world. That those things belong in books and books alone.

_ And then the universe goes and proves her wrong. _

And after everything, when she walks, trembling, out of the woods and sees her mother sobbing in relief and heartache, she can tell that there’s something deeper there too. Because her father is a fighter, and he would do anything and everything for her, and when he went searching for her, he didn’t stop at just making accusations. 

They find him in the hospital, hooked up to enough machines that he all but vanishes beneath the pile, and his face is pale, but Luz hasn’t seen it enough to know just how pale it is by comparison. But seeing him there, knowing what he was willing to do to find her, to bring her home, something in her breaks, and is reforged, and holds fast.

She stays by his side, and her mother is with her when she can be, but all too often it comes down to Luz. Because, as far as they know, he doesn’t have much in the way of friends and his family’s either scattered across the earth or below it, and even if he had either, there wasn’t a thing in his pockets when they found him in the alley behind the bar. No numbers to call.

And even after life catches up to her, even when her mom’s insistences break through the veneer and she goes back to school, her nights find her at his bedside more often than not. He’s awake from day one, but it takes him a while to find the words. And when his eyes can finally focus again, when he can look into his daughter’s, he breaks down sobbing. Because some of that light has gone out, and there’s a shadow that flickers just behind them. She may have never been there, but she’s seen the Desert, and the only reason she came out is because someone else didn’t. 

_ This man is her father, and he’s the only person in the world who knows exactly how she feels. What she sees at night in those moments on the edge of dreaming. He’s held a rifle and she’s held a glyph that sucked the color out of her hand just for holding it, and they both did what they had to do to get home to the people they loved. _

~---~

Silence held between them, somehow infinitely dense and fragile all at once. As if the right word would turn the world around them to so much dust. Amity’s hand had found her cheek partway through the story, and she turned into the touch, eyes closing. When they opened again, the tears had finally stopped.

“So I told him everything,” Luz continued, voice hoarse, “and at first I could tell he didn’t believe me, but once he really took the time to listen, I think he realized there was no way I could make that sort of thing up. And then he vouched for me when I told my mom. Together we figured out how to prove it. And after that, well, he moved closer to us, and I started seeing him more often.” She smiled at that, the thought of it, and Amity didn’t need a Bond to feel the love that radiated off of her.

“Two or three times a month, we’d get together and just talk. He’s got his shop where he works - he’s a woodcarver - and he showed me how he could turn a block of wood into just about anything with the right tools.” She sighed, making a dragging motion with her hand along the surface of a shelf. “He’d tell me about how wood grew in layers, and how the bark was there to keep it safe. How the more ugly and scarred it was, the better a job it had done of protecting what was important. And how, unfortunately, most people just saw the bark and figured that’s what it looked like all the way through.”

“He sounds like a good pick for the Plant Coven,” Amity supplied, unsure of how exactly to respond to  _ any  _ of that, but feeling some desperate need to say something, anything to fill the deafening silence between them.

“I think he’d like that,” Luz whispered. “It was hard, leaving him. I felt like I’d just gotten to know him. I offered to- to delay coming back, but he wouldn’t hear a thing about it. He could tell, I think, how I felt here. What I had here.  _ Who _ I had here,” she added, finally, bringing her eyes up to meet Amity’s own.

“He knew that there were people here that I loved,” she stated simply, but the depth of emotion that followed it through the Bond took Amity’s breath away.

“That’s why you gave me a hard time about my father,” Amity whispered, pieces falling into place.

“A lot of the time, you don’t really realize what you have until you almost lose it,” Luz replied, nodding, “I don’t claim to know everything that happened between you and your parents. It’s  _ awful  _ that they left you. And if you decide that you never want to see them again, to even talk about them, that’s fine. But take it from me, even when it seems like the people we’ve loved have left our lives forever, they have a way of coming back.”

“The problem is,” Amity admitted, not even bothering to hide her emotions in the face of the Bond, “is that I don’t know if there was ever any love there.”

“Stop me if I’m going too far, but do you know that for sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Amity snapped, but the certainty she’d expected never touched her tone. The human’s knowing eyes confirmed as much.

_ Was she sure? _

It took her only a few moments to decide that yes, unquestionably, her mother had only ever considered her children to be nothing more than tools to increase the standing of their family. Edric and Emira had been treated like a single entity from day one, as if only by providing two illusionists to the court could her mother win back favor. Amity, on the other hand, had taken after her father, and had been intended to serve - quite literally - as his replacement up until Lilith had tapped her for the Emperor’s Coven.

Still, she could remember, just on the edge of her memories, her father teaching her how to trace a spell circle. The proud smile on his face as she’d demonstrated her natural talent by calling a tiny sludge-formed beetle from the ground. The way he had called her his “little abomination.” Their relationship had been strange, but she realized that there _had_ been love there. Or at least some form of it. But there was another truth there, hiding just beneath the surface, that she’d never worked up the courage to face until now.

_ Her father loved her just as he loved her siblings, but he feared their mother more. _

And the injustice of that, the sheer blind rage that filled her mind at the very idea of it drove all other thoughts from her head. Hands clenching, face turning red for something other than embarrassment for once, Amity pushed herself out of her seat and began pacing the room. Back and forth, back and forth. Anything to push away the though. Any motion that she could pretend was taking her far, far away from that awful realization.

And then Luz’s arms wrapped around her, and she realized that she was crying.

Her anger, her resentment, her hatred, they all just  _ broke _ . She found herself on the floor, all but falling to her knees had Luz not gently lowered her down with her, and buried her head in the human’s shoulder. They weren’t the soft, relieved tears that she’d cried into her shoulder before. They weren’t even the angry, anxious tears that pricked her eyes whenever the world was just too much.

These were hard, and painful, and long overdue, and if she had cried them alone they would have washed her away and carried them with her tide. 

_ But she wasn’t alone. _

And the anchor that held her down was Luz.  _ Because of course it was.  _ Unthinking, Amity let go of the hold she’d had over their connection, opening it completely. She grimaced at the way Luz held onto her a bit too tightly, how her voice caught in her throat, how her arms shook under the weight of it. A part of her tried to close it when she realized that Luz had started crying with her, but the moment she made to do so, Luz reached out and stopped her.

They bore the weight of it together, and Amity felt herself drawn back to the story Luz had told her. The story of two people living in a world she’d never known. Of the light that had raged between them. Of the crushing weight that had snuffed it out. And something in her broke, reforged, and held fast.  _ This  _ was not something she was going to let die out.  _ This  _ was not something she would allow to break.

_ And she was never going to let go. _


	15. Alumna y Profesora

On the grand list of things that she absolutely despised doing, Luz would have to place “running just for the sake of it” somewhere dead near the bottom. Maybe even below washing Hooty, though the jury was still out on that one.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Willow from dragging her along on a particularly bone-chilling jog through the woods at a time that she claimed was reasonable but, really, there were still  _ stars  _ out, so who was she even trying to fool? According to her, it was either that or more training, and the way she’d said it indicated that there wasn’t really that much of a choice to the matter.

Honestly though? Luz was starting to wish she’d taken the second option. Sure, Viney was a sensible person and therefore two hours out from even considering being awake, but Luz probably could have held Willow back long enough that the beastmaster’s “wounded animal” sense would have gone off and brought her to her aid. Hopefully. Probably not.

But she  _ could _ hold Willow off for a while, and that was more than she’d been able to do at the beginning of the month. Once she’d been able to land more than a few hits, the two had sat down (figuratively of course, Willow didn’t sit until she was done with something) and broken her fighting style down piece by piece. What worked and what didn’t. Which areas needed improvement (a lot of them) and which ones were already good to go (she  _ really  _ could throw a mean punch). From there, it had just been training, training, and more training. The only time Luz wasn’t getting kicked around the circle were either when Willow was at school or those few, blissful moments when she had other obligations. 

The former was what Eda described as “her time,” which really just meant it was a mix of running potions around town, identifying human “artifacts,” or working on her glyphs. She was actually making some headway on that last one. Focuses (or foci, as Lilith always corrected her) came in pairs it would seem, judging by the way the sky glyph had quite literally appeared to her as she’d been cloud-watching with a certain someone.

Which, of course, brought her to the latter; the time that had come to be something she’d affectionately been referring to as “Amity time.” They’d come a long way since waking up, panicked, in the library, convinced that the twins were about to reveal that they hadn’t followed Eda’s instructions and slept where they were supposed to, only to find out that both of them had apparently been occupied with the rest of their friends putting down a full-on floral insurrection. 

_ Amity had been relieved, but Luz was downright furious. They’d had a big crossover event without her? _

Still, not getting caught that night (even though they hadn’t been doing anything) meant that Luz _had_ managed to earn some trust with Eda. And that in turn meant there were a lot of late returns home after dozing off in the library, nestled close to possibly the most touch-starved person Luz had ever met. Because really, what was she supposed to do, not cuddle with that sad little face?

And then Willow had gone and finished her first semester, which meant that she was far less busy, and far more capable of finding the time to “get back to the basics.” Which, to Luz’s great sorrow, meant less and less Amity time.

The human told herself that that was absolutely, one-hundred percent the reason that she was scowling at her best friend as she jogged alongside her. Anything else would have been petty and mean-spirited. Especially if that anything else had happened to be, say, the fact that Willow seemed totally unbothered by the chilly morning air. Or maybe, if she was especially petty, the fact that they’d been jogging for thirty minutes and she still wasn’t out of brea-

_ No, she was mad about that other thing. What was it again? Right, Amity. If brain doesn’t know why it’s feeling a certain way, probably just default to Amity. _

Luz was interrupted from her pleasant thoughts by the witch beside her calling for a stop. She graciously complied, hands shooting to her knees as she tried to pull breath into her aching lungs. “There’s no way,” she gasped out, “that you could possibly find this fun.”

“Everyone’s got a different idea of fun, Luz,” Willow replied with a huff, nevertheless handing the hapless human a canteen that she eagerly downed.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Willow warned.

“Just let me have this, please,” the human groaned back.

“Your funeral…”

“No, that comes later,” Luz replied, wiping her mouth as she handed the canteen back. That one wasn’t really an exaggeration, but she’d thus far managed to avoid thinking about it by merit of the running and thinking about Amity combo. So long to that one.

“I doubt she’s going to kill you,” Willow supplied, forcing a smile to her face.

“Oh gee Willow, thanks for that one,” Luz teased back, “as long as you  _ doubt  _ she’s going to kill me, we really have nothing to worry about.”

“You’re downright awful when you’re tired, you know that, right?” Willow asked her, mock annoyance to her tone. “I could just bury you out here. The Isles aren’t huge, but I doubt anyone would find you.”

“What’s stopping you?” Luz responded, meeting the witch’s eye with a wolfish grin.

“Amity, Eda, and Lilith, in that order.” 

“You make a fair point, Wills. Three, even.” Luz took the opportunity to glance at their surroundings; tall trees to their west (Landward? Isles directions were weird) and the steadily multiplying lights of the city below them. They were high along the trails overlooking Bonesborough, a place Willow had brought her a few times now. It was peaceful up here, secluded even. As she wandered over to the edge, Luz wondered if Amity had ever taken the time to come up here and just watch the city come to life.

“You’re doing it again,” Willow teased as she walked up beside her, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“Doing what again?”

“You’re thinking about Amity.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Luz shot back, dropping to a seat with a huff. Willow joined her, going a step further by letting her legs dangle off of the edge. Leaves crunched beneath both of them, their battle with winter lost, but no snow having come yet to bury the dead.

“You get this look on your face,” Willow finally added, breaking the silence, “When you think about her, it’s like all the little worries you have just ease away for a moment. You never really seemed worried before, or maybe I just never noticed when you were, but I like seeing it; that look. It makes you look more like yourself.”

“I, I don’t-” Luz stammered, because what do you say to something like  _ that _ ?

“Just an observation,” Willow replied, cutting her off, “no need to have a snarky comeback.” She’d seemed a bit more… distant lately. Ever since that whole ordeal with the plants, there’d been something eating at her. Every time Luz had brought it up before, she’d immediately coached her face back into that neutral expression of hers and denied it.

_ Maybe here, away from everything and everyone else… _

“How’re you doing?” Luz asked, quietly but with enough emphasis that Willow would get the idea of what she was  _ really  _ asking.

“I’m-” Willow began, forming her mouth into the right shape to say ‘fine,’ but seemingly deciding against it. She gazed out over the cliffside for a long enough time that Luz began to feel the cold seep through her coat before continuing.

“I’m confused,” she finally whispered, the sound of it coming out with a huff that made it seem like something she’d been holding in for a long time. “I feel like, like I spent all this time trying to get strong, to be the strongest I could be, but I’m not sure why.” Kicking her legs out over the edge, Willow started, as if caught in something. “Don’t get me wrong, I  _ want  _ to be able to protect you and Gus and everyone else, but I can’t help but feel like there should be something  _ more  _ there, you know?”

Luz nodded but stayed quiet, Willow glancing up at the steadily lightening sky above them. In the first flickering hues of dawn that touched the witch’s cheeks, she swore she could see the beginnings of tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“I have all this magic, and this ability to help people, but I don’t even know if I want to,” Willow continued, voice distant. “No,” she amended, “I do want to help. I’m just not sure how.”

“I mean,” Luz supplied, “you’re crazy strong Wills. Way stronger in a fight than most people will ever be. You don’t have to protect just us.”

“Well what if I don’t want to protect anyone but you guys?” Willow asked her, suddenly tense, “What if I just want to tend my garden and only go out when I have to and just protect the people I care about?”

“Wills, that’s fine too-”

“Is it though?” Willow half-shouted, half-asked, cutting her off.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it fine if I spent all this, all this effort, just to make myself the strongest I can be and then, what, hide away?”

That was it, Luz realized. There was something else there. Something, or maybe someone, that had gotten under Willow’s skin. Come to think of it, Gus had mentioned that they had had some help during their “night out,” as he referred to it, but he would never say who. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who the likely suspect was if Willow was  _ this  _ upset.

“My dad told me once that if you decide to protect people, you don’t get to choose who you’re protecting,” Luz muttered, remembering that soft pride that had been in his voice, “At least, not if you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

“But what are the  _ right  _ reasons,” Willow asked, turning to her, eyes pleading.

“Because you can,” Luz replied, echoing her father’s words, “because you have the ability to do it, and because someone has to.”

“Even if they don’t deserve it?”

“Especially then. Because you’re  _ not  _ them, and that’s what makes you different.”

“And what if they protect you first?” Willow asked, voice so small Luz was almost convinced she hadn’t heard it.

“Then maybe,” Luz trailed off, searching her head for some sort of wisdom, some tidbit of knowledge she’d picked up from one adult or another and finding none. “Maybe they’re trying to make things right,” she finally offered, “However they can.”

They stayed silent for a long time after that. Long enough that the stars winked out of existence, replaced by little wisps of cloud that looked distant and cold, like even they’d huddled against the coming season. Luz pulled a glyph from her coat and lit it for warmth, the action seemingly reminding Willow that she was still there. 

“You sure you’re not the reincarnation of some ancient wise-woman, Luz?” the witch asked, chuckling as she tossed a playful punch into her shoulder.

“It’s been a long time since you asked me that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a long time since I thought about it,” Willow responded, groaning as she pulled herself to her feet. Luz looked over to find a hand thrust in her direction, insistent. “C’mon then, we’ve got to get you back to the Owl House.” Luz took the hand and let Willow pull her up, brushing herself off as she stood.

“I’m still not entirely sure that Eda didn’t pay you off to tire me out beforehand,” Luz teased, earning a laugh from the witch.

“Please, this is me stacking the deck in your favor.”

“Where’d you get that idea from?”

“You know, get your heart pumping, muscles stretching, bile flowing.”

“Wills,” Luz replied, exasperated.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t have a bile sac.”

“But you do have a heart and muscles, last I checked,” Willow replied, grinning, “so how about we get those things suitably stretched before your big show?”

“Big show?” Luz asked, earning a wince from the plant witch. One immediately followed by a quick, nervous glance, and a sudden burst of speed back the way they’d come.

“Willow!” Luz shouted, giving chase. “What do you mean by a big show?”

“Nothing,” the witch called back, “forget I said anything!”

“We both know I’m not going to!”

“Fine,” the witch responded, slowing her pace just enough to job beside her, “Eda may or may not have invited everyone to come watch today.”

“And what, exactly, does  _ everyone  _ entail,” Luz asked between breaths.

“Well, myself for one,” holding up a finger, “Viney obviously. And also Gus,” she added, putting two more up and trailing off with each subsequent addition, “And maybe the twins. And Amity. And Lilith.”

“Why would she possibly need to invite just about everyone I know on the Isles to come watch our duel?”

“Well,” Willow began, voice diplomatic, “she said that she was going to put you through your paces.”

“ _ ¿Como si fuera un maldito caballo? _ ”

“I- I didn’t understand a word of that,” Willow admitted.

“It’s better that you didn’t Wills,” Luz replied darkly.

Well fine then. If Eda wanted to treat her like a horse, then she’d give it her all. She’d let them see that she was a thoroughbred, a mustang, a stallion even. She’d be... another word for a strong horse. Started with a “d”... Right, a destrier. She’d be a freaking destrier, and then Eda would have to acknowledge how strong she’d gotten. This was  _ not  _ going to be a “mentor still shows the student how much she has left to learn” situation. She was well past  _ that _ stage of the Journey. It was about time she got to the “Reward” stage, and she knew exactly what form she wanted that to take. 

_ Hint, it started with “S” and ended with “taff.” _

Gus already had his, which was great for him, really, and Willow had apparently just  _ found  _ the material for hers sort of lying there, from the sound of it. Even Amity had started bouncing ideas off of her for what she wanted her palisman to look like. Meanwhile, Luz had zip, zilch,  _ nada _ . And really, hadn’t she earned one at this point? Why shouldn’t she be able to carve a staff, put a cool monster on top of it, and just swoop to Amity’s window and secret her off into the night-

_ Ah yes, hello brain, congratulations on once again defaulting back to Amity. _

“Really?” Willow asked her, incredulous, “that was less than five minutes!”

“You were counting?”

“I figured someone had to!” Willow countered, laughing past her indignance, “You need to just kiss that girl already or something.”

“Willow!”

“Don’t Willow me! You’re heading to a one-on-one duel with Edalyn the Owl Lady, and you can’t even take five minutes to be rightfully concerned or worried about that before your silly little brain goes back to thinking about your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my-”

“I know!” Willow shouted, rousing a flock of gloamingjays out of the nearby trees, “that’s the problem, apparently.”

“You,” Luz began, ready to argue, “may have a point.”

“Of course I do.”

“Oh hello Mother Willow,” Luz groaned, earning a scowl from the witch beside her “nice to have you back.”

Still, Luz supposed she  _ did  _ have a point about paying attention to the fact that she was going to be going toe-to-toe with her mentor for the first time in over a month. About how she was going to need to use everything she’d learned, and plenty besides that to even have a chance against the witch she’d once seen fend off a dragon with nothing more than a staff and a bad attitude. 

And maybe, just maybe, about that other thing. But she had a plan for that. That was the future. Right now, she needed to be ready to face one of, if not the, strongest witches in the Isles. And she’d have to do it while everyone she knew and respected was watching.

_ She almost wanted to just keep running. _

~---~

Glyph-lights flickered out of existence, no longer necessary as dawn took hold of the clearing. At the center of a now well-worn circle stood a witch and a human, mentor and student, master and apprentice. To those watching, it must have seemed as if they exchanged some unknown signal, some message between them, because without so much as a whisper, the match had begun.

The Owl Lady, eyes keen, tracked her student’s progress as she slowly walked the inner edge of the circle. Staff swinging in slow, lazy circles at her side, Eda made certain to never let her eyes linger anywhere other than the human’s hands for more than a moment. They were empty now, but she was all too aware of how quickly that could change, how any combination of ice and fire could come hurtling her way in an instant. Her own hands hovered over the surface of her staff; within easy reach of any of a dozen glyphs.

This sort of patience, this sense of sizing an opponent up, both were new for her apprentice. She wasn’t any more focused, but the way she forced herself to zero in on any point her senses flicked to, trusting her instincts, well, that was the next best thing. Her stance even, the way she walked, seemed more sturdy, less clumsy than Eda had come to expect from her. Whether that came from Willow’s training, a fledgling understanding of the world glyph, or some combination of the two was anyone’s guess.

Eda let her eyes slip out of focus, moving past the physical and into the sixth. Gossamer strands of magic spread out across the circle, the clearing. Luz’s robe was a confusing mess of them, each line connecting the cheery blaze at her center to one of the glyphs she’d inked into her decks. The clearest line, and by no coincidence whatsoever the thickest, left the circle entirely. This attached itself to a certain witch on the perimeter, a baby variant of Blight that watched, nervous, as her Bondmate squared off against one of the strongest witches in the Isles.

Scratch that.  _ The  _ strongest witch in the Isles. She still had it.

As if in direct response, Luz slapped a glyph into the ground beneath her and shot towards Eda like an arrow loosed. The Owl Lady couldn’t help the fierce sense of pride that bloomed in her chest at the sight. Even after she’d batted the human out of the air with her staff, that pride flared further at the realization that she’d managed to affix a second glyph to it. And when the human corrected her path in mid-air and skidded to a halt, activating the glyph and ripping the staff out of her mentor’s hand with a gesture, well, that was just the final touch.

Her little owlet had  _ style. _ The kid used glyphs like they were second nature. Like they were as easy for her as breathing, as instinctual as putting one foot in front of another. 

Eda dodged a pair of ice shards that came whistling towards her, raising a hand to summon her staff, only to find it frozen to the ground with one spell and sunk into the earth with another. Fair enough. If Luz wanted to fight glyph-to-glyph, she was more than happy to oblige. Didn’t mean she’d have to fight fair. 

Still, Luz kept her distance, condensing one shard after another into a barrage that Eda made quite the show of keeping her on her toes. All the while, she caught herself up to the latest changes in her student’s technique. Watching from afar was one thing, but being here, in the hot-seat, well, the cold-seat in this case, seeing the way Luz could be absolutely unrelenting when she wanted to, well, that was something else entirely.

Breaking the illusion, Eda stepped easily past the next shard in the volley, an earth glyph of her own hitting the ground and pulling a barrier to her side faster than she could blink. Reaching into her robe, running a clawed hand over the implements hidden within, she selected her weapon of choice.

She struck the ground with a glyph-etched tuning fork, and the earth seemed to  _ ripple  _ out from the point of impact, growing in intensity until Luz was forced to find her footing on a raging sea of clay and stone. Eda faced no such worries, the turbulent earth parting before her as she strode to where her staff now bobbed on the surface. Something pricked the back of her neck, and she pulled back just in time to avoid the hurtling form of her student, a levitation glyph in hand.

_ So she had figured out how to use it. Looks like it was time to have Hooty start watching the windows for escapees. _

Problem was, Luz was pretty new to the whole “weightlessness” thing. It wasn’t the sort of talent you could just pick up in a month either. So when she “flew,” it was really more along the lines of flinging herself in Eda’s general direction and hoping something would stop her momentum. Which it did. That thing being the barrier that sprung up at the edge of the circle. Eda spared a glance for her student, pressed up against the bubble, and chuckled at the winces on the onlookers’ faces.

The Owl Lady took up her staff, tapping the butt against the earth, and snapping it back to its proper form. Luz, face red, stumbled to a halt a few paces away. The welt on her jaw slowly faded under the careful attention of a reversion spell, though Eda did spare her an apprentice a grimace at the way the bone settled back into place. They were definitely going to have to work on flight. There was a reason most witches relied on their palismans for that sort of thing. People just weren’t very aerodynamic.

“You managing alright, kid?” Eda asked, only slightly mocking. “We can call it if you need a break.”

“No, we’re finishing this,” Luz replied, something… off to her voice. Was it deeper somehow? Eda wondered if she’d managed to knock something loose in the crash.

Her student’s grin turned positively feral as she flicked a pair of glyphs into her hands. No, two  _ separate  _ glyphs. Eda didn’t even have a chance to shout a warning before fog  _ exploded  _ out from between Luz’s hands, taking any sense of direction with it. Still, she couldn’t help but grin as Luz chuckled, the sound echoing, before slipping off beyond her sight.

_ So that was how they were playing it. _

Worry forgotten, Eda spun her staff to life, golden fire crackling across its length as she drew the magic together for a spell. Something cracked to her right, and the witch loosed arcana in the direction, energy ripping free in the form of an arc of wind that took half the cloud with it. She had just enough time to see the stunned faces of the onlookers before the cloud flowed back into place. 

Eda waited for the counterattack that never came, body tense, staff held at the ready. Last she’d known, the kid had been working on one glyph at a time. She certainly hadn’t made it through all of the base twelve. So how she managed to combine the effects of two glyphs before she had any right to really only had one conclusion.

_ This was Luz she was talking about, after all. Her little owlet. And if she knew anything about her, it was that even the laws of magic themselves were more suggestion than rule. _

“I’ve gotta say kid,” Eda shouted to the fog, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice, “you never fail to surprise me.”

The fog dispersed in an instant, leaving Eda alone at the center of the ring, Luz directly in front of her. She was breathing hard, her face beaded with sweat. Glyphs lay scattered at her feet. No, not scattered…

Eda froze.

The ground around them, right up to the edge of the circle, was absolutely  _ littered  _ with glyphs. More than Eda had ever seen in one place. More than any one person could possibly control. Letting her eyes slip out of focus and back into the sixth, Eda found dozens, no, hundreds of gleaming lines of magic tying back to her apprentice. All of them tethered to that core of magic at her center that was never anything less than a full blaze.

_ It had become an inferno. _

“Then this one is really going to knock your socks off,” Luz called back, throwing whatever chance Eda might have had of defusing the situation to the curb by sprinting directly towards her. The witch was forced on the defensive as Luz closed the distance between them, staff flashing back and forth to catch her blows. 

Eda’s experience with fighting up close extended to beating things back with her staff in order to get the distance she needed for a spell. Anything else she might’ve had that could put some distance between them would either hurt them both or give Luz an opening that the witch couldn’t afford. And as Eda caught her student’s eye, saw the confident smirk that was plastered to her face, she realized that Luz knew it just as well as she did. That she had planned on it.

_ Oh, this kid was going to be trouble. _

So rather than face her, Eda dodged away from her student, only to hear something crinkle beneath her feet. She  _ poured  _ magic into her staff, her limited supply used in an instant, only managing to  _ just  _ pull herself off of the card before it immolated the ground beneath her. Pulling herself into the air with Owlbert’s aid, she surveyed the battlefield below her. 

Just as she’d thought, the ring was  _ covered _ with glyphs, save for a ten-foot circle at the center where her student stood, hands outstretched. Flashing back to her sixth, Eda grimaced at the brightness of the furnace now raging in her chest. Whether she realized it or not, the kid was running dangerously close to her limit, whatever that may be. Eda’d never managed to figure out how the human could work magic without bile, but now she was starting to get an inkling of it.

Luz  _ was  _ burning something, and whatever it was, she wasn’t going to collapse when it ran out. She was going to  _ explode _ . Leave it to her to figure out how to accidentally hold  _ herself  _ hostage. Something about her was off though. Harsher, competitive, but not in her usual “eager to learn” sort of way. There was something just beneath the surface, something aggressive, that Eda had never seen out of her before.

_ For the briefest instant, she had the unshakeable sensation that something very large was looking back at her. _

“What do you say we end this fight, kiddo?” Eda called down to her apprentice, carefully coaching the worry out of her voice. “I think you’ve proven your point.”

“But Eda,” Luz whined back, “I’ve been waiting for this for a month.”

_ That  _ at least sounded like her. What was she thinking? Of course it did. Eda shook away the sensation she’d felt, dismissing it as an aftereffect of tapping her magic directly. It never failed to confuse her, to muddle her mind. And the kid was right; she  _ had  _ been waiting for this. She’d clearly prepared enough glyphs to arm the Isles, at the very least.

Granted, Eda wasn’t a fool. She knew that whatever else may or not be going on, it couldn’t be healthy for anyone’s magic to be burning that hot for any extended period of time. She  _ did  _ need to wrap up this duel, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give it the ending the kid deserved. 

“Fair enough,” she called back down, “but you asked for this.”

Eda punctuated her statement with a display of glyph magic that’d put her old stuff to shame, bursting back and forth in a half-dozen flashes of crackling golden fire before bringing her staff down with all the force she could muster against her student’s cloak-wrapped arm. There was a moment of calm, of breath held and the world catching up to what had just passed between them, before the rebuffed force of her attack tore into the air. Glyphs were tossed into the sky like leaves, only to be caught a moment later by a dust storm that drove to the edge of the boundary and halted, surrounding them with a swirling cyclone of paper and debris that took all sensation with it. Well, every sensation but one.

_ That being the tip of the spike just under her chin. _

“Neat trick you got there,” Eda choked out past the dust.

“I’ve seen you do it plenty of times,” her student replied, face partially hidden by her cloak. As her features slowly settled into view and she lowered the edge, Eda saw that same fierce grin, though thankfully about ten shades less feral. “Figured I would give it a shot myself.”

“It’s pretty good,” Eda admitted, eyes crossing to take in the six-foot spur of stone that had stopped just sort of giving her an unexpected mouth piercing, “but I think the one I’ve got pointed at the back of your head is a bit sturdier.”

Luz’s eyes widened at the revelation, and Eda smirked as she moved her neck ever so slightly to confirm that yes, they’d had the same idea. The smile that crossed her face was rueful at first, but slowly turned genuine.

“Thank you,” Luz whispered, voice barely carrying across the distance between them.

“For what, kid?”

“For letting this play out. When you were up there, I could tell you wanted to call it.” Luz glanced around them, the steadily clearing air still filled with glyphs that fluttered in the remnants of a breeze. “I may have overdone it just a bit.”

“You could say that again,” Eda responded, earning a blush from her apprentice. Subconsciously, her grip loosened on the staff. It was Luz alright. There was a part of her that had been concerned… No. It must have been a side-effect. 

“I just really wanted to show you what I could do,” Luz asserted, voice plaintive. “I wanted to show everyone really. To let them know that their time hadn’t been wasted.”

“Kid-”

“No,” Luz interjected, cutting her off, “I know that they  _ wanted _ to do it. Still, I can’t think of one person that doesn’t feel good when they see their work pay off. I want everyone to know that I can handle myself, that I can take care of myself. That  _ they _ helped me get there.”

Eda just shook her head in response, unsure of whether she wanted to laugh or cry. This kid. This damned kid. She was either going to be the end of her or the beginning of something incredible for the Isles. Knowing her, it was probably going to be both.

“I’ve got one more suggestion for you, then,” Eda quipped, forcing herself to push through the emotions warring in her chest.

“What’s that?” Luz asked, eager.

“When this dust clears, and you can see all the folks who came to watch you today, you let them know that you fought the Owl Lady to a draw. But before that…” Eda trailed off, watching Luz’s eyes settle in understanding, “Before that, you stare that little girlfriend of yours in the eye and  _ wink _ .”

“Eda!” Luz shouted, indignant, “she’s not. We’re not- I’m  _ not _ going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Gee, I don’t know, it’s embarrassing?”

“Oh, fighting me to a draw is embarrassing?” Eda asked, eyebrow raised, “If you want, I could always knock you around a bit more.”

“No,” Luz replied quickly, her face  _ burning  _ at this point. “I just-”

“You just what?”

Luz opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it. Slowly, tentatively, a grin worked its way across her face. Something fierce, but not harsh. Proud, but not cocky. By the time she looked back up at her, Eda couldn’t help but draw in a breath at the  _ look  _ in her eyes. That sly mischief. That plain confidence. All of it undercut by a rock-solid understanding that she  _ was  _ powerful, that the world messed with her at its own peril.

_ She couldn’t count the number of times she’d seen it in the mirror. _

“I suppose that was pretty impressive, wasn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” Eda confirmed, voice quiet.

“And that  _ would _ be quite the sight, wouldn’t it.”

“The wink?” she asked, grinning as her student nodded, “It’s a classic. Pull off some powerful spellwork, make a statement, and then toss a wink at someone? You’re in.”

Luz seemed to take that into consideration as the last of the dust settled. By the time they could see the witches gathered, just at the edge of the bubble, peering in to see the results, Eda couldn’t help but chuckle at the way her apprentice kept alternating between pride and embarrassment. With a final tap of her staff and a scuff of the human’s hair, Eda dismissed the barrier.

And, sure enough, the moment Luz made eye contact with a certain green-haired witch, she tossed a champion-grade wink her way that almost made  _ Eda  _ blush.

_ Oh, she was going to be trouble alright. And the little firebrand in Eda’s heart couldn’t wait to see it happen. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we are; a nice little midpoint and triumph to hold onto as we enter the- Uhm, never mind. You heard nothing from me. Just uh, do me a favor and hold onto whatever goodwill you've had towards me so far. The next few chapters are going to be fun! 
> 
> Lots of fun...


	16. A Panic Attack? In This Economy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning; This chapter contains a realistic (to my personal experience) of a major panic attack. If that's not something you're comfortable with reading, this is your opportunity to back out. A summary of the events of this chapter will be provided in the beginning of the next chapter. Please take the steps needed to ensure your own mental health and security.

It wouldn’t be unfair to say that, growing up with the siblings she did, Amity treated every situation with a healthy dose of suspicion. After all, there were only so many times that one person could weather stolen diaries, artfully crafted jumpscares, and convincing illusions of a certain human before skepticism just became a part of daily life. In a lot of ways, it had helped her become a better witch. But today, with one of the siblings in question on either side, and with both of them being well-behaved for once, well, she could be forgiven if she didn’t trust the situation one bit.

Her eyes flicked between them as they spoke across her, unwilling to properly enter their conversation, too busy expecting some kind of fresh embarrassment. 

“And I’m saying,” Edric was asserting, continuing off of a point Amity hadn’t heard, “that you’re reading into it  _ way  _ too much.”

“How would you have the first clue?” Emira contended, further mystifying Amity.

“Because I know a thing or two about mutual longing,” Edric shot back, laughing. He walked a few steps ahead of them, bobbing and weaving between passers-by, before turning to face them, still grinning. “And let me tell you, that is  _ not  _ it.”

“What are you-” Amity began, before being cut off by Emira.

“Oh, you know something about ‘mutual longing?’” her sister asked, voice mocking, “Do tell, Ed.”

“Well I- I mean, you know. From an influencing and illusion standpoint-” Edric’s confidence faltered with each successive word, his eyes darting around the marketplace, seemingly desperate for something to distract his twin. Amity followed his gaze and found nothing; just the half-deserted corner they’d wandered into.

“Oh,” Emira interjected, “just from an ‘influencing and illusion standpoint’ then? Purely academic? Nothing at all to do with a certain informan-”

“Em,” Edric hissed, Amity just managing to catch the way his head flicked towards  _ her _ , the way her sister’s words stopped dead on the way out. Which, really, was just plain  _ rude _ . 

“You do realize,” Amity growled, getting their attention, “that the only reason I came out to the market today is because you  _ begged  _ me to come? Oh Mittens, you never spend time with us anymore,” she continued, voice an eerie parody of Emira’s, “and don’t you want to get a headstart on your Yuletide gifts?” she added in a less convincing impression of Edric. “And yet, when we actually get together for the first time in  _ weeks _ , it’s one conversation after another where I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Emira winced, and even Edric had the decency to look the slightest bit chastised at her outburst. She almost felt guilty, seeing them like that. Then she remembered the most recent incident - a late-night illusion of a certain human at her window that she’d said some… embarrassing things to - and that guilt boiled away in an instant.

“Our bad, Mittens,” Emira muttered, “you know how we can be.”

“Only two witches on the Isles and all that,” Edric added, suitably forlorn.

“Oh!” Emira exclaimed, reddening at the way it drew her siblings’ attention to her. Rubbing at her arm, she glanced sheepishly back at them. “Sorry, just the way you said that, it reminded me of something I needed to do.”

“What could that possibly have reminded you of?” Amity asked, curious.

“It’s nothing, really,” Emira replied far too quickly, “just a gift I need to pick up before the shop closes.”

“Em,” Edric replied, a smirk crossing his face, “it’s midday. I can’t think of many shops that would be closing right now.”

“Unless,” Amity continued, realization bringing a grin to her face, “it was the sort of shop that’s not really decent to keep open  _ during  _ the day.”

“You- You’re far too young to know anything about that,” Emira sputtered, pointing to Amity, “And you,” she continued, moving her finger to Edric, “I know where you sleep.”

“Ah, one of the classic threats,” Edric replied, laughing, “Right next to ‘you’re going to regret that’ and ‘this is going to get messy.’”

“I’ve always been a fan of ‘take that hand off of me before you lose it,’” Amity added, earning a nod of approval from her brother.

“Yeah, that’s a good one,” he replied, grinning ever wider at the steadily reddening face of his twin, “Versatile, suitably intimidating. That subtle implication of violence is everything when it comes to a good threat. You wouldn’t want to be  _ too  _ obvious.”

“How about I’m going to  _ strangle  _ you?” Emira asked, voice sickly sweet.

“No, you see, that’s exactly what I just said.  _ Far  _ too obvious. Speaking of which…”

Edric stopped in his tracks, words trailing off as he gestured exaggeratedly towards an alleyway Amity had never noticed before. If it was at all possible, Emira seemed to get  _ redder _ . Dangerously so, even. She wondered if this was what she looked like doing, well, pretty much anything that had to do with Luz. Unfortunately, it probably was. Titan, she really needed to work on that anti-blushing spell.

“I can’t imagine it’ll be open much longer, Em,” Edric teased, gesturing once again to the alleyway.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Emira huffed, turning away. Amity craned her neck to get a peek down the alley. Surprisingly clean, as far as such things go, but with a decidedly dingy vibe that seemed almost cultivated, as if one’s eyes weren’t  _ supposed  _ to linger on the place. The single sign at the end, lit by the pale red glow of a brass lantern, bore the old symbol for a clothier, though the second symbol it was entwined with was unfamiliar to her. Though there was some similarity between it and the Crux of Aengus…

Oh. It was  _ that  _ sort of clothier. 

Two Amity’s warred at the realization. Amity the academic thought herself tremendously clever for having figured out the scandalous nature of the shop through a bit of applied symbology. Amity the poor, lovestruck young woman was torn between abject horror at knowing what her sister was getting up to in her spare time and the absolutely dreadful (wonderful) thoughts that it put in her own mind.

“Aww, look at you,” Edric quipped at Emira, drawing Amity out of her internal conflict “It’s hardly ladylike to have such scandalous thoughts running through your head.”

Their sister surged forward in response, pushing past Edric and stopping just long enough to whisper something in his ear that drained all color from his face. As she walked down the alley, Edric turned back to Amity, embarrassedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“It occurs to me,” he began, carefully enunciating each word, “that it may have been inappropriate to bring you to this part of the marketplace.”

“Edric,” Amity replied, exasperated, “I’m not twelve years old=”

“Be that as it may,” he interrupted, “I’d really rather not think about both of my sisters heading down such a dark path.” Striding across the mouth of the alleyway and bringing his arm up as if to block it, the illusionist set a boot on a nearby crate, calling his staff from wherever he hid the thing and bracing himself against it. “It is my responsibility as your older brother to ensure that you keep on the straight and narrow path to success.”

She had to admit, the effect of it  _ was  _ rather impressive. The only problem was that it was Edric making the point, which automatically reduced it to a parody, at best. Maybe a satire on a particularly good day, which this was not.

“You’re full of shit,” she said instead, delighting in the way he stumbled off of the crate in surprise, just barely managing to catch himself on the wall.

“Language, Mittens!” He half-laughed, half-shouted at her.

“What, like you don’t swear?”

“Not in front of you, I don't,” he replied, face immediately serious. Racking her brain, Amity realized she could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d heard him swear in front of her, and always at someone else, but never  _ at  _ her. Which was odd, to say the least, since Edric was the furthest thing from proper. She’d once caught him planting false love letters in lockers throughout school, the detailed descriptions contained therein still haunting her to this day. Much as she hated to admit it though, he was right. Which really only left one question.

“Why not?” she asked, earning a noncommittal shrug from her brother.

“Dunno,” he replied, turning away from the alleyway and starting down the road. Amity jogged a few steps to catch up with him, eager to leave Emira and her  _ purchases  _ far behind them. “I suppose it just didn’t seem right,” he continued, meeting her eyes for a fraction of a second, “Not because anyone told me to,” he quickly added, “Just because it didn’t seem like the right example to set.”

“Careful Edric,” Amity teased, “You keep saying things like that, and people might start calling you some really awful things.”

“Oh?” he asked, grinning, “like what?”

“Titan, people might start saying you’re responsible, brotherly even.” Amity looked all around them, as if attempting to spot eavesdroppers, before leaning in and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “They might even say you sound…  _ mature _ .”

“Oh!” Edric shouted, making Amity jump, “The horror!” Dropping to his knees, Edric clutched his chest, all but  _ wailing  _ in mock agony. Passers-by alternated between glaring at them and chuckling openly at the display, and the witch felt her ears press to her head in embarrassment.

“Alright,” she admitted, “maybe I jumped the rod on that one.”

“You think?” Edric stage-whispered, one eye opening.

“Oh good,” she monotoned, turning away from the sorry display and continuing in the direction they’d been walking, “you aren’t dead.”

“You wound me Mittens,” Edric teased, pushing himself to his feet, “Truly, you do.”

“Not enough to do you in, apparently.”

“Titan, dear sister,” Edric continued, catching up to her, “how violent you are. Do you kiss our dear human friend with that vicious mouth of yours?”

Amity’s response  _ would  _ have been clever, she was certain of it, but the Universe chose that precise moment to send a burst of dry air down her throat, reducing her to a coughing fit that had absolutely nothing to do with anything else whatsoever. Really, it was just a poor set of circumstances. And the blushing! Well, that was…

Edric nodded sagely at her reaction, taking it as all the evidence he needed.

“Pity,” he said, smirking as he turned the corner towards a more populated part of the market, “It might loosen you up a bit.”

“What, like Emira?” Amity rasped out as she cleared her throat, doing her best to meet his smirk with one of her own.

“Let’s hold off on using our beloved sister as inspiration any time soon,” Edric replied, eyes widening. “She’s an adult, with uh, adult responsibilities and adult needs, and you’re just, you know-”

“Also an adult,” Amity supplied, “at least in the eyes of the law.”

“Well, you’re not an adult to me,” Edric huffed.

“Oh my, are you to be my keeper, brother dearest?” Amity asked, voice drawn to a mock-demure tone, “Perhaps you’ll travel to a distant part of the Isles to find me a suitable young lord or lady to be my betrothed?”

“I’d have to find someone willing to fight your champion first,” Edric replied, smirk returning to his face.

“My champion?” Amity asked, though she already knew his answer.

“Oh yes, the fearsome human, whose mastery of glyphs is only matched by their devastating ability to reduce witches to a sputtering mess with a single wink.”

“That was- She was-” Amity stammered out.

“Ah, ah, ah, dear sister, you don’t have to justify yourself to me,” Edric teased, “If I had someone going through all that trouble to impress  _ me _ , I’m sure I would be just as embarrassed.”

“Luz  _ wasn’t  _ trying to impress me,” Amity insisted, “she was just training to use her magic and I happened to be there.”

“And that’s why she winked at you?”

“She could have been winking at anyone!”

“Oh really?” Edric asked, the tone of it making Amity gulp, “and what about the looks you were giving  _ her _ ?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Amity huffed, quickening her pace. Granted, she had no idea where it was they were going, but anything was better than confronting  _ that  _ particular knot of emotions. Even if Luz had looked really good zipping around the ring, glyphs flying from her hands faster than Amity could keep track of. Even if she  _ had  _ fought the broiling Owl Lady to a draw using magic she hadn’t been able to practice for almost three  _ years _ . Honestly, Amity had no idea how the rest of them didn’t completely melt the moment the human had looked back at them and  _ winked _ , like it was all some sort of routine display. Like they hadn’t just witnessed the single most stunning display of glyph magic ever put on by the single most stunning person-

“You’re doing it again,” Edric teased, breaking her from her thoughts. He’d snuck up on her, waiting until he was practically in her ear before cutting her daydream short. She already missed it.

“Doing what again?” Amity deflected.

“You’re thinking about her,” Edric replied simply.

“I am not!” Amity shouted, ears pressing to her head at the way half a dozen other shoppers in the now-crowded marketplace snapped their attention to her at the outburst.

“You absolutely were,” Edric asserted, chuckling, “but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I don’t recall asking for your approval,” Amity hissed.

“No need Mittens, you already have it.”

“Oh, well so long as I have your approval,” she responded, letting all the sarcasm she could muster bleed into her tone, “I wouldn’t want you to disapprove of my-”

Her  _ what _ , exactly? The thought stopped her dead in her tracks, Edric continuing for a few more strides before turning to her, a grin plastered across his face. 

“Your  _ what _ , exactly?” Edric teased, putting her treacherous thoughts out into the world where they could better spell her doom. “Your  _ girlfriend _ , maybe? Or even your  _ lover _ ?”

“You are- Agh!” Amity growled, as one does when they’re confronted on what really ought to be a simple matter. They’d been on three dates, for Titans’ sake, and spent time together practically every opportunity they could. They  _ cuddled _ , and that had to mean something, because Amity hadn’t cuddled with anyone since she was a child, and the way Luz’s arms felt wrapped around her-

“I’m your brother,” Edric asserted, scuffing her shoulder, “and that means that I get to tease you about things the same way we tease Emira and she teases us.”

“So our family dynamic is just an endless circle of torment?” Amity asked mournfully, “And I’m outnumbered because the other two members have a Bond and twenty years of experience on how to push my buttons?”

“See Mittens, you’re finally getting it!” Edric joked, maneuvering around the small crowd that had gathered outside of one of the newer shops that had cropped up in the marketplace. As they took up a position in line, Amity twirled a quick circle with her hand, summoning a squat abomination beneath her feet tall enough to let her see over the crowd, just barely managing to make out a brightly painted sign declaring the new addition to be “ _ The Afarit’s Tandir _ .” She grinned at the stylized depiction of some sort of jackal-headed creature formed from the smoke of an open oven.

“New place?” she asked Edric, still glancing over the crowd.

“And a newcomer to the Isles,” he replied, “figured we’d give both a look over and see if the food is worth all of the attention it’s been getting.”

“Good reviews?” 

“Odd ones, actually,” Edric replied distractedly, “Witches can’t seem to remember how anything tasted, but demons claim it’s some of the best food they’ve ever had. Reminds them of home, whatever that means.” Amity dismissed the abomination, coming to a rest at his side. She’d expected a grin, maybe a shake of his head at the petty use of magic (even though he never held  _ himself  _ to such a standard), but instead found him staring at the sign, seemingly deep in thought. As if sensing her eyes on him, he shook his head slightly and turned to her, fixing her with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Besides,” he chuckled, “Lilith noticed you didn’t touch your cereal this morning. And thus, I was charged with the sacred duty of ensuring you ‘ate something today.’”

Amity didn’t know quite how to categorize the feeling that filled her chest at that revelation. Lilith was still filling them in on whether she  _ ate  _ or not? Fortune must’ve smiled on her, a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye cluing her into a trio of demons leaving their table on the shop’s little patio.

“Well then, brother dearest, if you’ve been charged with such a sacred duty, far be it from me to get in your way. If you need me,” she continued, shuffling towards the table, “I’ll be awaiting your prompt arrival right over here.”

Anything to get away from  _ that  _ conversation.

“Oh, by all means,” she heard him mutter as she walked away, “leave me to fend for myself in this crowd.”

And that was  _ exactly  _ what she did.

~---~

Amity hadn’t been sitting at the table for more than a few minutes before a shadow cut across her periphery. Standing to the side of her table, leaning heavily on a glyph-carved cane, was a familiar witch. An old one at that, aged but stern in countenance. He dressed as formally as she remembered, the brightly colored kilt that somehow managed not to clash with his otherwise contemporary formal wear just as familiar. The very picture of a Crown-noble.

The man was none other than Síoltach Nafaer, a former friend of her parents. “Former” in the sense that, alongside many of his fellow aristocrats, he’d changed colors the moment the Emperor had fallen. Still, Amity couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him. She’d always had a soft spot for the man, not on account of any kindness he’d shown her, but rather of the decided indifference he’d shown her parents despite his being a guest at the endless procession of formal dinners and gatherings which had been the backdrop of her childhood.

He’d certainly never failed to be entertaining, even if that entertainment came in the form of him drunkenly demanding that her father “grow a spine” or her mother pull the stick out of her, eh, lower regions. Once upon a time, he’d been the head of the Beastkeeper’s Coven, but that role had since passed onto a witch less associated with the system they were all trying to move past. She hadn’t seen him since. 

_ As far as she knew, no one had. _

“Miss Blight?” he queried, eyes blinking against the light, accent curling the letters with a curious emphasis, “Why it is you! How are you, my dear?”

“Ah, Mister Nafaer,” Amity replied, voice subconsciously slipping into the light, formal tone that had been coached into her from the moment she could speak, “it has been some time, hasn’t it?”

“Oh yes, lass, quite a bit of time indeed. I’d reckon we haven’t spoken since all of that unpleasant business a few years back.”

Right, if by unpleasant business he meant a full on coup, the death of the Emperor, and the momentary collapse of any semblance of government in the Isles. You know, the sort of thing that could totally be summed up with the term “unpleasant business.”

“And how are you keeping sir?” she forced herself to ask instead.

“Sir? Why, Miss Blight, you must be a full witch now! There’s no need for such formalities. You may simply call me Síoltach or, if the name gives you as much trouble as it does some, Nafaer does just as well.”

“Very well then, Mister Nafaer. How are you then?”

“Oh, I’m keeping well,” he replied, sitting at one of the three seats at the table. Amity didn’t recall inviting him to sit with her but, well, she imagined her parents had never invited him to challenge their other guests to duels for his honor. Crown-nobles were just like that though.

“Things finally cooled down enough for me to be making my way around town,” he continued “so I figured I would take the opportunity to run a few errands that are long overdue.”

“You’ve been away from town for a while then?”

“Oh, far too long Miss Blight. Far too long indeed.” His eyes cast out over the marketplace, catching on the half-dozen construction sites alone that were within sight. “There’ve been quite a few changes made since last I was here. These ‘peacekeepers’ are quite the curious replacement for proper guards and coven-witches.”

“Lilith’s rather proud of their accomplishments,” Amity replied, unsurprised at the defensiveness that crept into her tone.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Nafaer clarified, bringing both hands up, “I think the Matron has done a lovely job keeping everything and everyone in working order here in the south.”

There was something about the way his voice dipped at the last word. Almost a challenging tone to it. Amity searched her brain for a moment, pushing a bit of sudden fogginess away, pulling at the thread before it finally came loose. There it was, hidden away; Lilith’s face drawn over the last couple months as she looked at one report after another on the “deteriorating situation at the Crown.”

“But not at the Crown?” She asked tentatively.

“Always a perceptive one, Miss Blight,” the elder witch acknowledged, tipping his hat to her. “But you did always seem the brightest of the trio, if you don’t mind the compliment.”

Well,  _ she  _ certainly didn’t mind the compliment, but she imagined that the twins would be devastated. If she’d been amused by Nafaer’s antics, her siblings had been positively enthralled by the manner in which the man simply brute-forced his way through every formal interaction he was a part of. There was a sneaking suspicion at the back of her mind that he might have even inspired a similar strain of behavior in them now that they were no longer under their parents’ thumb.

“It helps to be apprenticed to the Matron as well,” she replied, storing that tidbit away for later. “I can’t claim to know much of what happens behind the scenes, but I know that Lilith is sympathetic to your plight. It has consumed many of her nights, at the very least.”

“Then perhaps you might be willing to carry a message to your mistress for me? It wouldn’t do for people to see her meeting with other members of the old guard,” he added, lowering his voice, “We wouldn’t want there to be any cause for alarm, now would we?”

“I suppose not,” Amity agreed tentatively.

“Brilliant then- ah, but where are my manners. It’s nearly Yuletide, and I’m asking  _ you  _ to do me a favor! I feel that I owe you some small token of the season.” Fumbling at his coat, Nafaer dipped a hand beneath the fabric, rooting around for a moment before pulling out a small leather pouch.

“That’s hardly necessary Mister Nafaer-”

“Ah, nonsense,” he interjected, cutting her off, “Please, I insist.” To punctuate his statement, he set the pouch in front of her, gesturing for her to open it. She did so, tentatively, one hand behind her back prepared to draw a spell circle and found… a pendant.

It was familiar to her, she decided, though she couldn’t quite place it. Simple enough, really. Just a hexagonal pendant inset with a six-pointed star, a common tool in- Wait, was it used for again? Amity pushed at the thought for a moment, her sight going a bit foggy at the edges before she shook it away. Titan, when  _ had  _ she last eaten?

“This pendant, it’s familiar,” she found herself saying. When had she decided to speak? Wait, did she ever  _ decide  _ to speak? Probably, or at least, she was fairly certain she did. Just at the edge of her hearing, she swore she could hear a slight hissing, only for it to be drowned out by the voice of the witch sitting across from her.

“Ah, I would imagine,” Nafaer responded, chuckling, a strange resonance to his voice, “It was passed to my hands by a mutual acquaintance of ours. She said that you’d understand its meaning better than I.”

Its… meaning. Amity turned the pendant in her hand, eyes catching briefly upon the (her) name etched into its back. The way the points lined up against the long-faded scars felt familiar to her in entirely the wrong way. Reality suddenly snapped to, and she realized that something was very, very wrong when her lungs started catching at the air.

“It seems that she was right,” Nafaer drawled, “Well then, I must be going. Do carry that message all the way to our dear Matron for me. It’s rather important that she receives it.”

Pushing himself back from the table, Nafaer took his cane up in his right hand, and Amity finally got a good look at the palisman at its head just as its scaled hide settled into place. The viper’s hypnotic gaze turning to wood at precisely the moment her memories came flooding back. 

“Oh, and one more thing, Miss Blight?” Nafaer added, drawing her rapidly waning attention back to his once-ruddy features, their cheerful cast now gone cold. “Odalia sends her regards.”

~---~

Amity eyes flashed back down at the pendant before comprehension dawned at the words that had, at first, slipped through her mind.

_ Her blood ran cold. _

The pendant’s six points dug harshly into a hand that she couldn’t help but clench. The air seemed colder, her face warmer. Muscles tensed and strained in her arms and chest. Air simply ceased to flow into her lungs. She was drowning, Titan, she was  _ drowning _ , and no one around her even realized. Dimly, she could make out the form of a man walking away from her, his collar up against the cold. Or to hide his face? Did he have a reason to hide?

Why was her hand hurting? Why was it suddenly warm, suddenly wet? Where… Who had she come with? Why weren’t they with her? Why was her chest so tight?

She wanted to call out, but the words wouldn’t come. And even if they did, would she really want to draw that much attention to herself? Would it be proper for a Blight to behave in such a ridiculous manner? It was only a pendant. They were only words.

_ So why was it so blessed hard for her to breathe? _

The hand not holding the pendant slammed into the table with enough force to draw all eyes to her, and it only served to drive her deeper into the mire. That had been a stupid, foolish, crass thing to do, she realized. Who was  _ she  _ to place her problems on the shoulders of others. She should be strong, should grin and bear this momentary lapse in composure. Those looks of judgment turned horror were nothing to her. The way their eyes flicked to her hand (don’t pay attention to it, it’s just a bit of pain), was a minor annoyance. Less minor was the way air still refused to pass her lips one way or the other.

The next moment, Edric was there, face writ with concern, and Amity felt the other shoe drop. Guilt curled around her heart like an old friend, held at bay by that pitiful little shard of hate she’d held onto, though driving it deep into her chest. She was drowning, and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the lack of air, or something thicker than air (blood, maybe?) that filled her lungs and were her words even making sense anymore? But that was alright, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like she was talking to anyone.

_ It wasn’t like anyone was listening _ .

Vaguely, she realized that she was moving, which meant that someone must have been moving  _ her _ . She was fairly certain she’d left her legs on the patio. (Or she just couldn’t feel them anymore) Titan, she really  _ was  _ drowning, gasping for air in the brief moments when her head breached the surface. 

Heavy doors pushed open ahead of her. Edric’s face, tears streaking down his cheeks. That same serpentine guilt, wrapped around her heart as she realized they were for her. Other faces, some familiar, some decidedly not. 

And then there was Lilith. 

Overworked, passionate, unexpectedly kind Lilith. First her mentor, then her guardian, now something more. Something new. Something unexpected. Something she’d never hoped to have found, but had come across anyways, right where she’d least expected to find it. Something that stood to be ripped away by the only other person who’d held a similar title in her heart.

And the thought of worrying her, or even worse, of  _ disappointing  _ her, well that was what did it. That shard of hate, that dagger she kept close to her heart just in case she needed it, it just  _ shattered _ . The shards of it drove deep into her heart, and the world drew down to a point.

Points of light, fading off to nothing. Worried faces, only making it worse. Shallow breaths, given to oblivion. Eyes beginning to close. The world, vanishing. Drawing away. 

  
_ Darkness _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the part of the story where it properly earns its angst tag. Hope you enjoyed! :)


	17. Frente de Tormenta

_ ‘We can therefore conclude that there are Seventy-eight possible glyph combinations, drawing from twelve base glyphs, and not accounting for the slight deviations that every witch applies to their craft…’ _

Luz slammed her head into the mattress, hoping that it might jumble the words back into her eyes (where they belonged) rather than having them float around her head (where they decidedly  _ did not _ ). Didn’t quite work, though it was a good attempt.

“Working hard?” came a familiar voice from behind her. Luz turned to find Eda standing there, a pair of plates in her hands. Before she could answer, King bounded past the witch, hopping up and grabbing one of the plates before presenting it to her.

“We made you lunch!” He shouted, lifting his arms for her to pull him onto the bed with her. Not that he needed the help, but she was normally more than willing to oblige him. Eda shook her head as she crossed the room, sitting at the end of the bed and dragging King up by the scruff as she went.

“ _ I  _ made you lunch,” Eda clarified, “King just sat there and complained about the fact that I was using elderberry jam.”

“Elderberries are an abomination of nature!” King protested, earning a chuckle from Luz.

“Aww, did Eda forget to feed you?” She asked, pulling him into her arms and laughing harder at his half-hearted protests.

“He’s perfectly capable of feeding himself,” Eda corrected, “That is, if my pantry is anything to go by.”

“You can prove nothing!”

Luz picked at her sandwich for a moment. Whatever king’s issue with elderberries might be, they were probably one of her favorites. But there was something just at the edge of her mind; a familiar sensation of having lost track of something important, that seemed to have taken her appetite with it.

“Are you even listening to me, kid?” Eda asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“What?” she replied, drawing the word out as she searched for an excuse, “Totally. Wouldn’t miss it for a thing- You’re not buying it, are you?”

“Not for a second.” 

“My bad,” Luz apologized, “I just can’t help but feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“That’s because you are,” King ominously piped up from his position in her lap. She turned to look at him as he rolled over, a clawed foot nearly knocking her plate off the bed before she snatched it out of his path.

“I am?” She asked, wary of his reply.

“Oh yes,” he continued, voice deadly serious, “something of grave importance.”

“And what might that be?” Luz asked, catching on but doing her best to hide the smile that threatened to break the act.

“You knoooow,” King groaned.

“I don’t,” Luz replied.

“You totally do.”

“Sorry,” Luz replied, no longer able to hide her grin, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Eda!” King shouted, turning to the witch, “Make her do the thing!”

“I can’t  _ make _ her do anything,” Eda mumbled, mouth otherwise occupied with what was left of her own sandwich. Luz made it approximately five more seconds before his sad little face won her over, his whining cut off as her hand found the spot between his horns and scratched furiously. The “fearsome” demon all but melted into her lap, and she welcomed the distraction, picking her sandwich up with her other hand and demolishing it in a two-minute burst of ravenous hunger. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was forgetting something...

“Whadabooay,” she garbled around the remains of her sandwich, earning a look from Eda for her efforts that made her realize that, okay, maybe there was a reason people said not to speak with your mouth full. Swallowing, she tried again.

“What day is today?”

Eda thought for a moment, looking out the window as if it would give her the date. Luz was about ninety percent sure it didn’t have the answer. Based on the way her mentor’s face shifted into realization, she knocked that estimate down to sixty.

“Cernsday, First of Lend,” Eda finally said, which was far less helpful than she must’ve thought it would be. Luz ran the calculation in her head, trying to remember the charts Gus had shown her who knows how long ago. As comprehension clicked into place, she felt her blood run cold.

“It’s  _ december  _ already?”

“Figured you were keeping track,” Eda remarked dismissively.

“It’s not like I have a calendar or anything,” Luz replied, fuming, “and we never did get around to finding a scroll…” She let the soft accusation hang between them. She wasn’t mad, really, but Eda  _ had  _ been promising to pick her up a scroll. She’d even insisted on paying for it, which was the main reason Luz had avoided bringing it up. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Eda relented, “Lily’s had me busy with all this politics nonsense.”

“I’m kind of surprised you’re doing it at all,” Luz admitted, “I figured you wouldn’t want anything to  _ do _ with politics.”

“I don’t,” Eda admitted, forcing a grin to her face, “but someone’s got to make sure these fools don’t blow each other off the Isles and take half the place with them.”

“Is that- are you joking?” Luz asked, only getting a shrug from her mentor in return. “Well, that’s mildly concerning.” 

“It is what it is,” Eda concluded, popping a bit of crust into her mouth. “More pressing, what’s got you so bent out of shape about the passage of time?”

“Well,” Luz began, letting the word hang, “I know no one around here celebrates Christmas, but you  _ do  _ still do presents for Yule, right?” At Eda’s nod, she felt her heart sink a little bit more. “Which means that I have less than a month to figure out gifts for everyone. And I wasn’t able to celebrate the last three, so they have to be even more special, but I don’t even really know what gifts you’re supposed to get, and-”

“Kid,” Eda said, cutting her off, “remember to breathe, please.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just breathe,” Eda replied, setting a hand on her shoulder. Luz took her advice, letting her breathing even out a bit before continuing.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, “It’s just… I really wanted this one to be special. To either get or make everyone presents they would really like. And now I’m not sure a month is enough time to do all that on my own.”

“Well you won’t be on your own, for one,” Eda reassured, “I’ll help you, and I’m sure if you keep scratching like that, King’ll pitch in too.” Luz grinned at that, looking down at the snoozing demon in her lap. “Besides,” her mentor continued, “whatever you do, I’m sure everyone will love it.” Her grin turned devilish, and Luz knew what was coming well before the words left her lips. “Especially baby Blight.”

“Eda, please,” Luz protested.

“Don’t tell me you two  _ still _ aren’t dating.”

“Most mother figures would be happy their adopted daughter isn’t dating someone.”

“When have I ever been like most people?” Eda asked, almost offended.

“Fair point,” Luz conceded.

“Besides,” Eda continued, “the both of you are just obnoxious around each other. You need to do  _ something _ , or I’m about ready to just lock you in a closet somewhere until you figure things out yourselves.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, I know,” Eda interjected, ignoring her protests, “you just have to get her something…  _ romantic _ for Yuletide.”

“Words can’t describe how much I hate the way you just said that.”

“Oh come on, you know I’m not being weird. That’s one thing I’m  _ not  _ encouraging.”

“And yet you sound-proofed my room…” Luz muttered, trailing off.

“Big difference between encouraging something and letting nature take its course.”

“Could we talk about literally anything else?” the human asked, not willing to touch anything  _ approaching  _ that subject with a ten-foot pole. Especially not with Eda, whose only attempt at giving her something resembling “the Talk” had ended with her knowing so much more than any person could ever possibly need to know about their role model’s, er,  _ escapades _ .

“Hey kid, suit yourself,” Eda teased, leaning back against the wall. She sat there for a moment, eyes closed, nearly long enough that Luz thought she was sleeping. “Quick question?” her mentor asked, one eye opening.

“What?”

“Which do you think she’d like better? Necklace with your initials on it or a book of handwritten poetry?”

“Probably the second- Wait, are these things you have?”

“I’m sure I could put the necklace together in no time, but I figured you could just use some of the poems you’ve already written.”

“Eda, I have  _ not  _ written poems,” Luz asserted. Which was, in every possible sense of the term, a bald-faced lie.

“You’ve never been a great liar, kid.”

“Were you going through my things?” She asked, voice low, ruse dropped.

“I would never,” Eda assured, hand to her chest, letting the promise hang in the air. “Hooty coughed some up a year or so after you left,” she admitted.

_ Wait, those poems? _

“Those are old,” Luz muttered, breaking into a sweat, “and I’m sure they were terrible-”

“Oh, they were awful,” Eda admitted, “but I’m sure you’re better now.”

Well, she didn’t think they were  _ awful _ . Maybe they weren’t the best things she’d ever written, but she’d still put her heart into them and...

“That’s beside the point,” Luz huffed, cutting off her train of thought before it got too out of hand.

“Ha, I knew you couldn’t resist the bait,” Eda quipped, “You know pride’s a sin, right?”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Ooh, and the snark,” Eda teased, “I did good on you. Now I’ve just got to pass on my patented seduction technique and the Owl House is in good hands.”

There was a part of her that wanted to be embarrassed, to keep denying Eda’s guesses and just get on with it, but that was just  _ way  _ too much work. Instead, she let herself laugh. At herself, at the situation, at all of it. Maybe a book of poems  _ wasn’t _ such a bad idea, though the “book” part was sort of pushing it. Couldn’t hurt to write a few though-

_ Pain, cold and sharp, shooting into her hand. _

“Kid, you alright?” Eda was asking, though Luz was far from being able to focus on anything else at the moment, “Hey, Luz, you with me?”

_ Breaths coming faster. Too fast. The awful, desperate desire to just pull into herself and shut the world out. To suffer in silence and let the moment pass. _

“Yeah, I’m… Well, I’m not fine,” Luz admitted, brain muddling through the odd double-sensation of her own shallow breathing and the part of it that seemed convinced she was fully hyperventilating, “but something’s wrong-”

_ Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Water filling my lungs. No, not water. Something else, something harsh and acidic. My heart is burning and why won’t everyone just stop looking at me? _

No, not her lungs. Not her heart. Whatever this sensation was,  _ she  _ wasn’t the one experiencing it. Granted, it wasn’t pleasant to experience whatever  _ this  _ was to any degree, but Luz could see her room, could see Eda and King’s concerned faces. Could see the way her mentor’s eyes crossed for a moment before going wide with surprise and terror. What did she call that? Her “sixth?”

_ Well, it was worth a shot. _

Luz forced her breathing back to a sensible pace, unable to dismiss the double-sensations that were still muddling her brain, but instead focusing on them. Her eyes closed, and the world faded away with her sight of it. There, just at the edge of her hearing, she swore she could hear a pair of discordant melodies. She wasn’t certain how, but she knew _ who _ they represented from the first note. But there was another one, distant, though somehow close at the same time. 

Luz knew its conductor as well. Knew her almost as well as she knew herself. That, in fact, she was hearing a  _ part  _ of herself in the way that only a harmony could reveal the whole breadth of a single part. As much as she wanted to listen to it forever, as bright a warmth as it lit in her heart, she couldn’t spare the moment.

_ Because it was fading. Fast. _

Luz was moving before she even realized it, thought catalyzing motion and pulling her through the door. Her eyes hadn’t even opened by the time she reached the stairs, but they flashed open halfway down, catching first upon her cloak (which went around her shoulders) and then her boots (which were counted out in favor of a pair of canvas shoes she could slip on quicker).

She was halfway on the porch when Eda’s voice filtered down the stairs, and she faltered for a moment, but another pang of something that ripped at her  _ soul _ forced her out the doorway. Her brain communicated its intention a moment before she completed the motion, an earth glyph hitting the ground beneath her and catapulting her form into the air.

Cloak fluttering behind her, reason abandoned, Luz pulled two of a pair from her coat, and slapped them together. Apparently, there were seventy-eight possible combinations of glyphs, but she was only interested in one. Sky and sky, taken together, their effect had been simply been described as “Untether,” and the moment they met, she found out why.

Everything just sort of… stopped pulling on her, pushing against her. The wind seemed to part ahead of her now plummeting form, and the insanity of what she’d done began to sink in. That is, up until she heard the faintest hint of a voice, barely a whisper, though undeniably carried to her on the wind. It wasn’t even a word.

_ It was a whimper. _

Fire roared into life behind her, and Luz rocketed towards the city. It wasn’t flying, that much was certain. More of a controlled fall, really. But as she neared the ground, inspiration struck. Another glyph met the corner of a building, and the burst of wind that ripped out of it sent her flying down the street. Another met a lamppost, and her soaring form curved around a pair of witches haggling in the market.

Images flashed past her far too quickly for her brain to make sense of them. Faces, places, demons, peacekeepers; all of it blending into a single tapestry of color and motion that faded before a single sensation.

_ That music, staggering in the way it tore at her heart, still fading.  _

And yet, the sensation of being one with the magic she cast, of slinging glyphs into a tempest of power that saw her cover miles in seconds, tore a laugh from Luz’s chest that immediately wracked her with guilt. She wanted to laugh harder. She wanted to cry and break down in the street. More than anything, she  _ needed  _ to be at the source of that music. Because something was wrong. Something was very,  _ very  _ wrong. And she knew that if it faded, a part of her would go with it.

The question of how exactly she planned on stopping herself, forgotten, was answered by a pair of spells that took hold of her as she rounded the final corner. Power waned and then flickered out as she skidded to a halt before the Ciorcal - the center of the Isles’ fledgling government. That music was still in there, still fading, and she moved to enter, only for her sight to finally catch up.

Her sixth (because that’s what she’d tapped into, she realized), cut off abruptly as she took in the peacekeepers arrayed in a loose semi-circle ahead of her, staves and weapons at the ready. Now that she wasn’t at the center of a tempest of her own making, now that she was thoroughly re-tethered, her emotions could catch up to her. 

Her knees buckled, and the peacekeepers lowered their weapons. Because kneeling at the center of the courtyard, tears streaming down her face, was a scared young woman. Casting her gaze up at the first in the line, a man with a staff as thick around as her arm, words failed her for a moment.

“Please,” she finally croaked out, and he nodded.

“Let her through,” he grunted.

“But Osmond,” another protested, “she just tore through half the city-”

“And I’m sure she’ll tear through us too if we try to stop her,” he interjected, cutting his fellow peacekeeper off. “I would rather avoid that, if at all possible. Besides,” he continued, “you’re really going to try and stop  _ her _ ?”

The other peacekeeper, a woman that Luz vaguely recognized from Lilith’s security detail, finally seemed to realize who she was. She’d never quite gotten used to the respect that her face seemed to earn her, let alone the fear. Both warred across the woman’s features as she beheld her until something went hard behind her eyes. She nodded, raising her own staff, and gestured to the doors behind her.

Pushing herself shakily to her feet, Luz grimaced at the pain that flared to life in just about every joint in her body. Still, she staggered forward. Her destination clear even without the woman’s instructions. Because even though her sixth had been dismissed, even though she wasn’t certain she could switch it on again if she tried, that music still whispered just at the edge of her hearing.

~---~

“... and for these reasons, we ask for the Matron’s guidance in determining the proper course of action to be taken in regard to the deteriorating situation at the Crown,” the aide concluded, voice echoing high into the rafters above them.

“The Council is well aware of my suggestion,” Lilith responded, voice tense, “Am I to take this to mean that they simply do not prefer that suggestion, and would rather I advocate for something that requires less effort?”

“I- I don’t know, Matron Clawthorne,” the young witch responded, white-knuckled hands closely clasped at her front. What was her name again? Alycia? No, that was the press intern. Something that began with an “ah” sound, that much she was certain of. Alaina, maybe?

“Matron Clawthorne?” the aide asked again, pulling Lilith from her thoughts.

“What? Oh, yes. Or rather, no. I wouldn’t expect you to know the answer to that question.” Lilith took a moment to still herself, trying to pull her scattered thoughts back to the present. Amara, that was her name. Amara Kolbe. “Thank you for your time Amara,” she continued, coaching her voice into its expected, dignified tone, “My comment was no discredit to you, but rather to the slow-turning wheels of bureaucracy. I trust that the Coven-Heads had no further information to relay to my office?”

“None that I was aware of, Matron Clawthorne,” Amara responded, bowing her head.

“Then that will be all, Miss Kolbe,” Lilith replied, turning to gaze out the window. Barely an hour past noon, and already she felt the weight of the Isles pressing down on her shoulders. Not that it ever seemed to leave, but there were at least days when it was bearable. That was  _ not  _ to be today’s experience, it would seem.

The tapping of shoes on tile and the creak of the oversized door at the far end of her chamber was her only indication that she now stood alone in the office. As if one could really call it that. It was large enough to fit her townhome, gardens and all, and still leave her with enough room to entertain a dozen guests. Not that there was much entertainment going on lately.

The Crown was but one of many matters that troubled her that morning, but it was by far the most pressing. The witches that dwelled upon and about the skull of the Titan had always been a contentious bunch. Isolationist, belligerent, and traditional to a fault, her predecessor had only kept them in line through  _ liberal application of force _ , as he had put it. Now that he lay decomposing somewhere in the depths of a swamp on the other side of the Boundary, there was nothing to stop them from re-igniting every grudge and grievance they’d suppressed for the last fifty years. And they’d done so in  _ spectacular  _ fashion.

Lilith didn’t even entertain the idea of sorting through the stack of papers on her desk regarding just that subject. There was hardly a day that went by that she didn’t get some sort of notice or report from the few agents that hadn’t been run out of town. One day it was mass dueling in the streets, the next it was a band of brigands grounding passing travellers. On more than one occasion, she’d had to negotiate the ransom of one of her peacekeepers, a continual embarrassment that hadn’t earned the fledgling organization any favors. Were the Isles still an empire, they’d have been considered to be in open revolt, but now that they were a republic, they were forced to treat them as a particularly troublesome neighbor.

As Lilith thought, she paced, and as she paced, she muttered, and before long, she was reduced to an image one shade from madness. Her hand itched to call her staff. To gather up the few witches she trusted implicitly and just fly up to the Crown herself. They responded best to force, right? Well, she’d give them force. More than they knew what to do with. And by the time she was done they’d-

_ Breathe in Lilith, four beats, then breathe out, eight beats this time. _

In and out. In… and out. Slowly, painfully slowly, her breathing normalized. The itch in her hand diminished but didn’t quite leave. It never did. Much as she wanted to solve this particular problem with force, she knew it was only a symptom of a much deeper issue. 

_ The Isles didn’t know how to run themselves. _

She supposed fifty years under a tyrant would do that to a place; even somewhere as wild as her home. Titan, even those fools fighting over the frost-packed dirt of the Crown had relied on the structure of having a common enemy to keep from doing just that. Sighing, she pressed herself into the overstuffed cushion of her office chair - a gift from the Beastkeeper’s Coven she was fairly certain had to be the least comfortable thing she’d ever sat in. It was better that way though - at least it kept her awake.

Today promised to be just as long as yesterday, just as yesterday had been as long as the day before. Were it not for the fact that she was usually off with a certain human, Lilith would’ve felt guilty leaving Amity alone at the house so many nights. That hadn’t stopped her from posting an extra peacekeeper or two around the premises until she returned home. For protection, she’d assured the young witch, though she hadn’t said from what. 

_ She needed her iníon focused on her studies, not distracted by other matters. _

She caught herself half a moment after the thought slipped through her mind. The word; one of a few treasured memories from a childhood she rarely thought of anymore. Moments when her mother would slip into the old tongue, the one they’d been told was no longer to be spoken in the home, and especially not beyond it. Hushed voices in the dark of her bedroom, whispering tales of an Isles unbound by the chains of ordered magic, when witches sung to the slumbering bones of the Titan and they answered.

_ Which presented yet another problem, and a familiar one at that. _

More and more often, Lilith found herself being forced to hold her tongue, to divert her thoughts from where they ought not tread. But still, she couldn’t help the way Amity’s name no longer felt associated with the title “ward” in her head. How much she envied Edalyn’s ability to simply call Luz her “owlet” and be done with it. Lilith didn’t dare broach the subject; the witchling had been through enough. The last thing the youngest Blight needed was another emotional dilemma to work through. 

And if Lilith just so happened to refer to her as her  _ iníon _ within her own mind, well, she was fairly certain Amity hadn’t picked up a once-forbidden language in her spare time, and that was enough degrees of separation for her to put the issue to rest. At least for now.

~---~

Lilith’s staff was in her hands the moment the sound of the front doors of the Ciorcal slamming open reached her ears, rousing her from a half-dozed state. Titan, she needed to find a way to get more sleep. Raised voices echoed from below as she strode across the floor, resolving into words the moment she flung her own door open.

“Halt, in the name of the Matron of the Isles,” boomed the voice of one of her peacekeepers, Osmond, a brute of a man with a staff as thick around as a witch’s arm.

“You know blessed well who I am,  _ Os _ , and you can see who I’m carrying. You want to be the one to tell Lilith you barred her apprentice from entry in the state she’s in?”

That voice, Speaker’s oath, it had to be Edric. But she hadn’t heard it that tense, that  _ raw _ in years. Not since-

_ Amity. _

“Let them pass, Osmond,” Lilith called down, taking the stairs two at a time. Sure enough, there Edric stood, his younger sister’s too-small form in his arms. Lilith tried and failed to suppress the panic that bubbled into her chest. She knew from the moment she saw it that she’d remember his face as long as she lived. The crumbling facade of a young man who bore confidence as a mask, the utter terror and guilt that lay exposed beneath. The face of a scared child hopelessly out of his depth.

And Osmond had the broiling  _ nerve  _ to level a blade of force at his chest. 

“Peacekeeper Tallow,” Lilith uttered, voice dangerously thin as she reached the bottom of the stairs, “it would be wise to dispel that incantation before I do it for you.” The spell flickered out a breath later, and she pushed past the man, ignoring the hall’s other residents as she gently coaxed Amity out of her brother’s arms. He held on at first, but the moment he caught her eyes he broke, tears pouring freely as trembling arms fell limp to his side. 

“Call for a healer,” came a voice from behind her; another peacekeeper, though she couldn’t tell who. The blood rushing to her ears made that all but impossible. Amity practically  _ convulsed  _ in her arms, breathing far too quick, skin pale as the grave. As far as she could tell, there was no visible wound, no injury to her body, but her eyes, Titan  _ her eyes _ . 

_ It was like the light had gone out. _

“Where is the broiling healer?” Lilith rasped out, eyes cast about the hall. Peacekeepers and scribes alike stood, frozen in whatever they’d been doing before, the spell only broken as a woman entered from the far side of the chamber. Striding out, hand outstretched for a moment before a curling, gnarled staff flew into it, was a witch that could only be described as a crone. Agatha Téith was one of the oldest witches in the Isles, and a former wild one, but she’d come with Eda’s sparkling recommendation, and Lilith had come to treasure the healer’s wise counsel and stern demeanor.

It was the latter that saw the witch quite literally pull Lilith along with her into a side chamber, barely giving her a moment to shout a frantic “call your sister” over her shoulder to Edric before her surprising strength pulled all three of them through the door. The very same that sent reports and the remnants of a meal flying off the table at its center.

“Place the child here,” she grumbled, seemingly nonplussed, as if this were a perfectly normal occurrence. As if Lilith weren’t holding the trembling form of her daugh-

“Lilith,” Agatha snapped, though her voice held just the barest hint of warmth to it, “help me help her. Place the child on the table.”

“Her name is Amity,” Lilith replied simply, venomless. The analytical part of her brain realized that there was a very likely chance that she was in shock, which the rest of her disparaged. Amity was the one hurt, not her.

“I’m well aware,” Agatha assured her, “now please.”

Carefully, Lilith set the witchling’s body down on the table, her hand finding Amity’s own, unwilling to break contact. Agatha strode to the head, her staff floating alongside her. Energy crackled around the room as it began to spin behind her head, a swirling nexus of arcane power that hummed just at the edge of Lilith’s senses. Beyond sight, but practically visible in its intensity.

“Open it,” Agatha called over the din, as if reading her mind, “I’ll need your help to direct the magic out of her system.”

“I’m not a healer,” Lilith warned, voice panicked. Still, she began to make the herculean effort of stilling herself, of reaching into the flow of magic itself.

“Obviously, but that’s why you’ve got me. This is a strong one,” she indicated, gesturing to Amity, “I’ll need the extra power if we’re going to break its hold on her.”

“ _ Its _ hold?” Lilith asked.

“She’s been affected by a hex,” Agatha responded, “a simple one, but powerful in its simplicity. It’s working through her as we speak.”

Lilith’s breathing slowed then stilled, the last exhale leaving her with her magic woven into it. As it passed through the chamber, the world seemed to grow pale, milky even. Thick clouds of mist pooled out of the circle she could now see forming behind Agatha. The air in the room somehow seemed to grow thicker, heartier, as if she were deep in some mountain valley rather than crammed in what she now realized to be the main hall’s guardpost. Steeling herself, she let her attention slip back to Amity, and she almost lost hold of it at the sight of her.

Malevolent magic, like bands of cloying, oily smoke, clung to her head, her throat, her chest. As she watched, they drew tighter, as if they were the bands of a serpent slowly constricting the life from its prey. But there, just at the heart of it, she saw a flash of purple. It was a hue she knew well. It was the color of Amity’s magic. Which meant, whatever this  _ thing _ was, it was using her own magic against her.

“Whoever did this to her had a great deal of hatred in their heart,” Agatha muttered, her voice warping strangely through conflicting vapors, “and a keen understanding of how to do her the most harm.”

“What makes you say that?” Lilith asked, struggling to maintain her focus. She gasped as Agatha forced a temporary Bond between them, drawing her power out with a sensation somewhere akin to having your stomach scooped out of your throat. 

“Like I said,” Agatha began, straining with the effort of channeling the magic of two, “the hex itself is rather simple. Little more than an emotional magnification. Practically useless on its own. But if you can encourage the right mental state, it can be  _ devastating _ .” With a gesture of both hands, the elder witch drew the hex back for a moment, revealing the core of Amity’s essence to both of them. Wrapped around the condensed ball of swirling purple smoke was an entity that fell somewhere between snake and leech, its body laid with shards of tyrian and pitch.

“Essentially,” she continued, straining to keep the window open, “there had to have been some sort of a trigger. Does she suffer from anxieties, tremors, quakes of the mind and body?”

“On occasion,” Lilith replied, “but they’re far less common than they used to be.”

“What triggered them before?”

“Her parents,” Lilith replied venomously, “At first, even the slightest mention would drive her into herself, but eventually she was able to speak about them, acknowledge the harm. She was speaking to a healer for some time, a counselor, and he seemed to think she was doing well.”

“Seemed to think?” Agatha asked, voice wary. Her hands moved back and forth, each motion pulling a bit more of the vapor out from around Amity and into the waiting mouth of her palisman, a rather ruffled-looking albatross. But still, it flooded out from where it had taken hold around her heart. 

_ It was endless. _

“We lost track of it,” Lilith admitted, forcing herself to look away, “she was doing so well, and she didn’t feel it was necessary anymore. I- I didn’t fight her on it.” She forced herself to look back down at her ward, at the streams of black now flowing out of her eyes. “Should I have?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.

“Of course you should’ve,” Agatha snapped, “but that won’t help us now.” Silence hung for a moment, Agatha’s rhythmic motion slowing with each successive pass, as if pushing through a tide rushing the opposite direction. Lilith’s teeth ground together as the witch’s pull on her magic waxed. “See if there’s a charm of some sort,” the healer demanded, voice thin, “a focus for the hex. There’s too much resistance for this to be unassisted.”

Lilith cast her gaze over the form of her apprentice, sight-switching between her eyes and sixth, keen for any hint of what might qualify as a focus. Nothing seemed prevalent at first. That is, until her mundane eyes caught upon the streaks of dried blood running down her right hand. Springing forward, Lilith carefully pried Amity’s hand open, eyes catching on the object that lay clutched within, biting at the flesh of her palm. The moment her hand brushed the cold metal of the pendant, the cold, dark form of a familiar hatred sputtered to blazing life in her chest. 

Taking the pendant in her own hand, Lilith felt the room suddenly shift, Agatha’s magic, keyed to such a high note against resistance, flooded the chamber with a burst of energy that left her seeing stars. Silence, for a moment, and then the world slowly resolved back into focus. Amity lay on the table between them, her eyes shut, breathing steady, though her body still trembled. The core of her essence seemed diminished, tattered even, but now that the bands of black were gone, Lilith could see something that she’d never have expected in a thousand years.

_ Amity had a Bond. _

And a powerful one at that. Lilith tried her best to avert her eyes as flickers of gold flashed along the gossamer strand and wrapped about her apprentice’s core. This was something private, something intimate. There was a reason most witches didn’t just go around with their sixth activated all the time. Some things were better left unseen. Others, well, it was just rude to make yourself a part of them.

In that delirious state, caught somewhere between relief, fury, and sorrow, Lilith collapsed at the side of the table, finally allowing the tears to flow. Even as her own hand stayed wrapped firmly around her daughter’s, she felt others resting on her shoulders. One in passing, strong and firm, a moment of comfort granted before moving on. And then, a moment later, a pair of hands, practically indistinguishable from one another unless you knew them well.

She already knew who she’d find standing there, but Lilith looked up anyways, and in doing so she took the third knife to her heart in the last thirty minutes. 

The twins were there, because of course they were; because there wasn’t a force in this world or the next that wouldn’t see them drop everything to be at their sister’s side. In that moment, she knew that the look in their eyes was a reflection of hers, and before they could say anything else, she pulled them close. Their arms, hesitant at first, wrapped around her, and hers around them, and the little whispers of assurance that passed between them seemed the sturdiest things she had ever heard.

Brick by brick, they built her back to sanity, and from that foundation she found the strength to be the presence they needed. Mutually-assured construction, Edalyn had called it once, and she couldn’t help but agree. 

_ And then the door opened. _

Standing there, windswept, a look in her eyes past the tears like the fires of hell couldn’t have warded her away was Luz. Realization clicked somewhere in the part of Lilith’s brain that was slowly rebuilding itself to logical thought. Because there  _ was  _ a fire in her eyes. This crackling, golden blaze that resembled nothing so much as the golden threads weaving her apprentice’s core back together. 

As impossible as it was, as much as it flew in the face of everything she knew about magic, about Bonds, about the fundamental nature of the world itself, she understood. She understood all too well. And as much as she wanted to feel joy, relief, something other than the cold sensation that curled around her heart, Lilith couldn’t. Because she knew, now, that the last words of her predecessor hadn’t just been the ramblings of a dying man. He  _ had  _ chosen his successor after all.

Luz Noceda, the human who did the impossible, who had felled the emperor, who had broken the laws of magic again by Binding to a witch, had one last secret under her hat.

And when Lilith turned her sixth upon her, she saw not one Bond but two. One tied to her apprentice, pulling her back from the brink. The other… The other wound deep into the earth below their feet. All the way down to the core of something else. And when she beheld it, she knew in the depths of her own soul that it had seen her as well.


	18. Sympathy

Eda pulled the blanket over her apprentice’s shoulders, hands lingering for a moment before she pulled away. Luz stirred as if sensing her presence, before slumping back into her position. It  _ couldn’t  _ be comfortable like that, Eda decided, but there was also no doubt in her mind that she’d find it all but impossible to move her. Friends and family, healers and peacekeepers had come and gone, and her little owlet had sat there, at Amity’s bedside, a hand firmly clasped around the witch’s own and a look in her eyes that  _ dared  _ whoever had hurt her to try and finish the job.

It was as sweet as it was terrifying.

Closing the door to Amity’s room behind her, Eda glanced down the stairs at the small troop of peacekeepers that sat around the dining room table. If she extended her sixth, she knew she’d find a dozen of them in total, scattered around the gardens, posted up on roofs and in eaves across the street; all of them rapt and at attention. There was enough magic drawn near to readiness that the air practically buzzed with the energy of it. Lily wasn’t taking any chances either.

She nodded to the peacekeepers she passed on her way into the kitchen. One of them had already put the kettle on, and she slowly poured the steaming water within into a pair of cups. As she poured, she listened. None of them seemed overly bothered by her presence which, she had to admit, ruffled her feathers a bit. There was a time when every authority figure in the Isles would’ve jumped at the sight of her.

Seems Lily hadn’t quite managed to convince them she wasn’t on their side. Suppose that dubious honor belonged to the twins now.

The thought of them brought a frown onto Eda’s features. It had taken her the better part of an hour, but she’d finally convinced them to get some rest back home. She got it, really. Twelve peacekeepers and a pair of powerful witches besides be damned, Amity was  _ their  _ sister. Eda doubted they were getting any rest at all, but their temperament was hardly going to help her here.

As she climbed the stairs, a cup of brewing tea in each hand, Eda forced herself to focus on the positive. Amity was at least in stable condition. The hex had done a number on her, to be certain, but Aggie was the best healer she knew. After all, she’d helped her keep her own curse under control for far longer than either of them had thought possible. If anyone had had a chance of doing right by the witchling, it had been her. Still, as Eda knocked lightly on the door to her sister’s office, she couldn’t help but remember the look on the old witch’s face. The wordless glance that told her it had almost been too late.

Lily opened the door, her eyes wide and unfocused, before settling on her sister, on what she held. Sighing, she stepped aside, and Eda strode in before she could change her mind. One cup found its resting place on the corner of her desk, the next in Eda’s hands as she took up a position next to the fireplace. Even the flames seemed muted somehow, suppressed by the mood perhaps. Lily’s magic hung thick and heavy in the air, condensed enough in the limited space that Eda practically didn’t need her sixth to perceive it directly.

“If you’ve come to advise me to get some sleep, that ship has sailed,” Lilith snapped, her voice divested of its usual, cutting tone.

“Please,” Eda replied, speaking between puffs of air blown fruitlessly over the cup in her hands, “you act like I don’t know that. Anyone sensible would have already been getting some sleep by now. Even Luz nodded off.”

“And yet here you and I are,” Lilith muttered, voice rueful “senseless and still awake.”

“Well, us and the peacekeepers,” Eda corrected.

“They’re doing their jobs.”

“Hey, just making an observation.”

“Then perhaps you should refrain from making foolish observations,” Lilith responded as she settled into her chair. Eda chose, just this once, to ignore the tone. Judging by the fact that she’d accepted the offering of tea, blowing on it for far too little time before sipping and grimacing at the scalding drink, there wasn’t any real venom to the suggestion.

“When were you going to tell me that they’d Bonded?” Lilith asked next, voice dangerously quiet. Now that one,  _ that _ had some venom.

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,” Eda replied, strategically looking anywhere  _ but  _ at her sister.

“Any of my business?” Lilith asked, voice rising, “Is it still none of my business? Now that I’ve had to find out while turning my sixth on my own apprentice to find whatever curse afflicted her, only to discover she’d forged a Bond that breaks the very laws of magic?”

“If you keep yelling,” Eda responded, voice low, “you’re going to wake them.”

That seemed to earn some restraint out of her. Or at the very least, a stay of execution.

“Edalyn,” Lilith began again, hands massaging what had to have been the mother of all headaches out of her temples, “you know as well as I do that it is simply not possible for humans and witches to Bond with one another. Humanity chose its path long ago, and we ours. There can be no true connection between us.”

“Unless…” Eda countered, trailing off.

“An unproven, poorly supported theory,” Lilith asserted, “by an equally unreliable, borderline insane author.”

“What, you really think Belos had the depth of emotion to feel that way about someone?” Eda asked, skeptical.

“Belos was… many things,” Lilith contended, voice soft, “Ultimately, he was misguided. Yes,” she continued, raising a finger to cut off Eda’s protests, “I’m not denying that he was a danger to everyone in the Isles. But he was more complicated than you know, than anyone knew. There was a man behind the mask, Edalyn. Once, he may have even had the ability to love and be loved. And yet, he formed no Bond.”

“Not everyone can form Bonds,” Eda protested. “Some are just born that way. Emotionally distant, disconnected from the world around them-”

“Belos was  _ not _ ,” Lilith interjected, “How often do Bonds form between the abuser and the abused? More than anyone would care to admit. They do not discriminate between positive and negative emotions, simply weak and powerful ones.”

“That still doesn’t explain how Luz and Amity were able to forge one in the first place.”

“No,” Lilith admitted, “it certainly does not.” She waited for a moment, hesitating, as if unsure of the next thing she planned to say. “Nor does it explain how Luz has formed more than one.”

Silence hung between them, Eda’s eyes flashing to meet her sisters.

“What do you mean, ‘more than one’” she asked, voice low, practically a growl. The way she’d said it, well, it couldn’t have been anything good. 

“So you haven’t sensed it then?” Lilith mused, turning to meet her gaze. The look in her eyes distant. As if seeing something far beyond the office where they both sat, stewing in the tension. “I would have thought, given your lack of propriety, that you would have turned your sixth upon her by now.”

“Not everyone’s as much of a prude as you are, Lily,” Eda snarked, though her heart wasn’t in it, “There was a time when people weren’t concerned about seeing who everyone was and wasn’t truly Bonded to. A simpler one, if you ask me.”

“So you have then?” Lilith asked, not rising to the bait.

“I have,” Eda admitted.

“And you didn’t see it?”

“If you don’t give me a straight answer, I’ll show you a sight you won’t forget.”

“There’s no need to get aggressive, Edalyn,” Lilith chastised.

“There is when you won’t tell me what the hell is going on!”

“Now who’s risking someone else’s sleep?” Lilith asked, eyes cast back down to the notes laid out before her. From her position by the fire, Eda could just barely make out the corners of a few familiar diagrams. They looked like they’d been pulled from Belos’ archive, his supposed “Day of Unity” project, but what was Lily doing with that…

“More than anything,” Lilith began, voice barely above a whisper, “Belos was nothing if not thorough in his convictions. If he believed something, truly believed it, one could be certain that he had the proof to back it.” Eda could tell by the tension in her shoulders that she had to force her gaze back up to meet her own. The look in her eyes was no longer distant, but the haunted sheen they held was somehow worse. “Do you remember his last words?”

The question found her teacup rattling in her hand, forcing her to set it down before she spilled any more of it on herself. Lily didn’t even get after her for getting it on the carpet, which didn’t bode well. She was onto something, and Eda wasn’t sure if she liked where it was going.

“With this act,” Eda began, shuddering as Lilith joined in, “the cycle is complete, and the burden has passed to man. They are yours now, and yours alone. Perhaps you will have the strength to do what I could not.”

Silence fell like a dense fog over the room, Lilith’s control over her magic finally breaking. The fire sputtered and dwindled down to embers in a matter of moments, casting their surroundings into a dim shadow of what it had once been. Even the glyph-lamp on her desk seemed to dwindle under the oppressive air of it.

“The connection between the Speaker and the Titan…” Eda whispered, trailing off, the words drifting in the thick air.

“Was nothing short of a Bond,” Lilith finished, her hands curling into fists.

“So Belos had one after all,” Eda mused.

“And once the dam is broken, water can flow freely into the valley below,” Lilith added.

“Can that even be done?” Eda asked, voice thin, “forcing a Bond like that?”

“Everything we know about magic is predicated upon the will of the Titan,” Lilith answered, “and by extension, upon our will, those who were chosen by the Titan to be its servants and the inheritors of its power.”

Eda tried her best to corral her thoughts into something resembling logic, but found it all but impossible. The thought of Luz being Bonded to something so ancient, so powerful, it didn’t make any sense. But then she remembered the sensation of the burning furnace at her core. Of the fuel that seemed limitless, bounded only by whether her body could withstand its heat or not. Or of how vicious she’d seemed in the moments after, how eager she’d been to continue their fight.

“So she’s Bonded to the Titan,” Eda remarked.

“And that Bond, in turn, reforged her connection to the flow of magic, and thereafter allowed her to form a second, truer Bond with Amity,” Lilith concluded.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you what this means, Lily,” Eda admitted, forcing herself to lift her teacup once again to her lips. To force some of it down her throat. To focus on something, anything, other than the cold pit that had settled in her stomach. Luz, her owlet, bonded to that thing? Sure, their ancestors had worshipped it, but just because she used their magic didn’t mean she trusted their judgment on everything. 

_ They’d sacrificed one another to it too, once upon a time. _

“It means,” her sister whispered, “that Belos chose his successor after all. Luz  _ is  _ the next to bear the title of Speaker, whether she chose to be or not. The only question we have left is whether or not we tell her.”

“Oh yeah,” Eda replied, finally finding the outlet for her inner turmoil. Rage it was. “Fat  _ fucking  _ chance that I’m not going to tell her she’s Bonded to the broiling Titan!” Her voice was low, insistent, but that didn’t stop her body from shaking.

“Ask yourself this, Edalyn,” Lilith replied, coaching her voice into something resembling calm that only further stoked her anger, “What benefit does Luz derive from knowing the truth before we have any additional information with which to supply her?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” her sister replied, carefully emphasizing each word, “that if we tell her everything now, we risk pushing her over the edge and into a state of panic. She’s already suffered one shock to the system,” Lilith asserted, and Eda couldn’t help but begrudgingly acknowledge the genuine concern in her voice, the love that often marked her own, “if we simply add another, without any way of reassuring her, there’s no telling what might result from her… altered state.”

“You’re worried she’s dangerous,” Eda breathed, thankful that she hadn’t had to be the one to say it.

“From my peacekeeper’s reports, she ripped through the city so fast that none of them would have had a chance of stopping her. The negations they used at the plaza wouldn’t have been enough if she hadn’t already been willing to stop.” She paused for a moment, letting the implication hang between them. “Edalyn, she doesn’t even know all twelve glyphs yet, but from that display, it’s clear she can already combine them. What other abilities might she have that even  _ she  _ isn’t aware of?”

Wood scuffed stone as Lilith pushed her way away from the desk. She crossed from the flagstones under her desk to the carpeted sitting area by the fire, carefully removing the teacup from Eda’s vice grip and setting it on the table next to her. Taking both hands in her own, the Owl Lady couldn’t help but gasp as her sister pushed at an old connection between them. One that they hadn’t opened in a very long time. She didn’t ease the gates, but the gesture didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Edalyn,” she whispered, “Please, work with me. Help me keep her safe.” 

“Which ‘her’ are you referring to?” Eda asked, bringing her gaze up to meet her sister’s, registering the shock that flashed across her features, the shame at being caught.

“Honestly?” Lilith asked, tears welling at the corners of her eyes, “Both of them. I- I love Luz as if she were my own, but Amity…” Her voice trailed off, tears streaking down her face. “When they struck at her heart, they drove a blade into mine as well. I cannot be certain if that was their intention, but the message was received.”

The moment hung between them, heavy and dark as the atmosphere of the room that seemed to draw in around them.

“There are dark powers at work here, sister, and I cannot face them alone. But neither can I face them if I am worried for the safety of my appren-” She caught herself, eyes flicking away for a moment. “ _ Ar mhaithe le sábháilteacht m’iníon. _ ”

Eda’s eyes went wide at the sudden switch, memories immediately flashing through her mind of moments in the dark, the lamp extinguished. Of a woman’s voice that spoke to them of a time long gone. She couldn’t speak it if she tried, but the words, their meanings, had never left her. Neither had they apparently left her sister.

“What would you suggest,” Eda asked, wary, the fire gone out of her chest. Now, there was only a cold sense of resignation. Lily was right, and damn, she hated that it was the truth, but she couldn’t deny that it was.

“Edric and Emira all but cornered me into swearing that they would be the ones to go after Nafaer,” Lilith replied, tone drifting past the broken shoals of her anxiety, “The network places him somewhere in the city, though we can’t be certain where.”

“Sounds like a job for them, then,” Eda admitted, trying to follow her sister’s example. They needed confidence now, decisiveness. Neither of them were any good to their fledglings otherwise.

“I thought as much,” Lilith replied, her voice growing distant again. There was something else, something she didn’t want to tell her.

“Go ahead and spit it out,” Eda barked, unable to draw any real vitriol to her tone.

“I believe,” Lilith began, hesitant, “that it would be for the best if both Luz and Amity were not in the city while that hunt is in progress-”

“Obviously,” Eda said in response, tone scathing.

“But,” Lilith continued, “neither do I think it would be any wiser for them to be in the Isles, either.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Eda asked, incredulous.

“We have allies in the Human Realm,” Lilith placated, “one even who has an equally great desire to see that Luz is safe and unharmed.”

“Oh, and that’ll be a great conversation to have,” Eda snarked, “Hey Camila, been a couple months, turns out your daughter is in mortal peril! Would you mind watching over her and her witch girlfriend while we hunt down said girlfriend’s attempted murderer and try to figure out whether or not the ancient being your daughter happens to be eternally Bonded to poses a risk to not only her own safety, but to that of the entire Isles? Gee, thanks for being so understanding and not putting a sword through my neck.”

“It is my understanding that most humans no longer own swords,” Lilith supplied, earning a scowl from her sister.

“Thanks, Lily, that makes me feel so much better about everything I just said.”

“I didn’t have a remedy for anything else in that barrage.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Eda responded, exasperated, “that was sort of the point.” She pulled her hands away, walking a few steps away before sighing and turning to regard the ceiling. “For the record, I hate the fact that I don’t entirely disagree with the idea.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Lilith replied, humorless.

“That’s just the thing,” Eda admitted, “I don’t have any. Taking them out of the Isles altogether puts them in unknown territory, but it’s what we do know that’s attractive. Magic gets weaker the further you are from a portal or Tear. Which means any witches that could come after them would be just as weakened as they are.”

“And the two of them not being able to access their own magic works to our favor as well,” Lilith added, “Agatha still wasn’t entirely certain the remnants of the hex are out of Amity’s system. Without her magic to feed on, they’ll quickly wither and die. To say nothing of Luz’s inability to tap the gifts of the Titan without being upon its body.”

“Didn’t stop Belos,” Eda grunted, not fully convinced.

“Belos had torn a hole in reality, if you recall.”

Eda did recall, but she’d wanted to hear her say it. The very memory of the sensation that had  _ ripped  _ through her body, the way the Isles themselves had seemed to rebel at such a direct exposure to the Human Realm, still sent chills down her spine. No, there would be no risk of accessing the Titan’s “gifts” there.

“It’ll cut down on the risk of any demons getting sent after them as well,” Lilith continued, crossing the room again to stand in front of her sister. “You and I both know that witches and witches alone are capable of entering a mortal dwelling without an invitation. For a demon to do so would be to risk leaving all of its power at the door. There are none that would risk such weakness.”

“Save it Lily, I’m already convinced.”

“I didn’t wish to leverage you,” Lilith mumbled, looking away. Eda groaned before taking her hands in her own.

“You didn’t ‘leverage’ me,” she forced herself to say, briefly nudging at the connection between them. Lilith didn’t ease her gates either, but the message was still received. “It’s a good idea Lily, really, but I’m certainly not looking forward to explaining it to either of them-”

“You won’t need to,” Lilith interjected, cutting her off, “I’d rather have you looking into another lead for me anyway. It’s my idea, as well as my burden to bear.”

“Lily-” Eda began, only to be cut off again.

“Edalyn, please,” Lilith asserted, “I am the Matron of these Isles, and if I am to guide the people through these times, then I will be the one to bear the brunt of any ill will incurred through my actions.”

“Always the martyr,” Eda quipped, unable to hide the sad smile that crossed her face.

“Ever the judge,” Lilith replied, meeting the expression with one of her own.

The two nodded in turn, an old argument set aside for the moment. They knew what had to be done, what was required of them. And they would do it. For their fledglings, their  _ daughters _ , they would move mountains and face armies. There may have been no more words exchanged between them, but a single question still lingered.

_ When had it all gotten so complicated?  _

~---~

Maybe it was the fact that the ocean around them was literally  _ boiling _ , but even during the winter, the Isles never got that cold. Sure, if you were crazy enough to go up on the Knee, you might experience something  _ resembling  _ the bone-chilling cold that Amity was bundled up against now, but she was fairly sure the Human Realm had just about anywhere else beat.

It certainly didn’t help that she felt so painfully thin, threadbare even. Agatha had told her there was a chance part of the hex might still be lingering somewhere inside of her. The whole point of coming here (allegedly) had been to starve it of the magic it needed to do any real damage. Still, despite Luz’s hand clasped in hers, despite all of the anxiety she should have been feeling at meeting not just one, but both of her parents, she couldn’t bring herself to feel much of anything. It was like the substance of herself had been… diminished.

Luz squeezed her hand, a gesture accompanied by the faintest push at a connection clamped shut, and the combination of the two brought her back to reality. They were standing on a street corner, a bag in each hand that wasn’t clasped with another. The Tear had dropped them twenty miles west of where Luz lived, but a quick call to their ride saw him change course for their new rendezvous. 

Which really just left the two of them standing alone in an unfamiliar place, the weight of their unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

“So…” Luz began, the uncertainty of it leaving Amity colder than the weather, “what do you think of the Human Realm when you aren’t, you know, fighting to the death in it?”

She was saved from having to answer by one of the human vehicles, a “truck,” she was pretty sure Augustus had called it, pulling up alongside them. The machine at its core shook the body with a low growl, resembling nothing so much as a great metal beast. The acrid scent of its breath burned at her nose, calling to mind long hours spent in an alchemy lab, bent over texts whose words swam through her head without ever having the decency to form any meaningful connection. Potions had never been her strong suit; they’d always left that to Boscha.

She caught herself at the unexpected memory. Not that it wasn’t hers. She hadn’t re-opened the Bond since- 

**_Don’t._ **

Taking a moment to still the tremors in her hand, Amity pulled on the anchor standing next to her, using it to drag herself back to reality. Ever since she’d woken up, her thoughts had been distant, odd memories from her childhood brought to the fore in sudden, staggering intensity. She forced herself to breath - careful, slow breaths that pulled acrid smoke into her lungs. Somehow it was better than the alternative. Agatha had described them as the aftershocks that followed the earthquake. She was inclined to agree.

The sound of the truck’s far door opening brought her back to reality, to the man that exited and walked around the beast’s head towards them. There was this sort of  _ weight _ to him that was at once immediately familiar, even though she’d never met him. This presence that demanded attention. Hair cut close to the skull, drawing attention to a long, thin scar that ran over and past his left temple. His nose was sharper than Luz’s and crooked enough that it’d clearly been broken several times, but it was his eyes that caught her.

_ Titan, were they familiar. _

This deep shade of brown, rich and intense in its hue. Faint light that flickered somewhere behind them, even if his seemed a shade dimmer than his daughter’s. But it was more than that. The way they were set in his face, close to the fore, gaze constantly flicking across the world around them. First at them, and then at the tree, and then back down the road. Always searching, looking for something.

“ _ ¿Qué? ¿Ningún abrazo para tu viejo? _ ” He asked as he walked towards them, the faintest limp to his gait. Under any other circumstance, Amity would have been proud to say she understood part of it. But Luz was looking at her, a question in her eyes, and as much as a petty part of her wanted to say no, she nodded.

The pang she felt when the human’s hand left her own was immediately replaced by a growing warmth when Luz closed the distance to her father, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing tight. His own arms found her back, settling around his daughter and pulling her close. It took everything she had for Amity to force her eyes away.

“And you must be Amity,” he called over Luz’s shoulder, eliminating any chance she had of ignoring the paternal moment. Her heart raced when he extricated himself from his daughter’s embrace, crossing the distance between them, arms raised. He stopped himself, something passing across his features that she couldn’t quite see, before lowering his voice. “Would you rather I didn’t hug you?”

“If you don’t mind,” she replied, voice quiet.

“Not at all,” he responded, a grin flashing to his face that put the final nail in the coffin on the resemblance between them. “Miguel Guerrero,” he said by way of introduction, thrusting a hand in her direction, “but I’m sure you already knew that. Or at least, I’d hope you would. I’ve certainly heard enough about Amity Blight to know her when I see her.”

“It seems you already know who I am then,” Amity admitted, smiling despite herself as she took his hand and shook it. Even the calluses on his hands reminded her of Luz. The girl in question popped up over his shoulder, an encouraging grin plastered to her face.

“Well,” Miguel began, drawing their attention to him, “much as I’d love to stand out here in the cold and catch up, I’ve got a warm cab better suited for it,” he said, gesturing back to the truck before turning to Luz specifically, “and a promise to your mom to keep,  _ mija _ .”

“We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Luz teased, grabbing her bag off of the sidewalk from where she’d left it. 

“Not a force in this world or the next that could stop me from keeping it,” he answered, brushing a hand over her shoulder as she passed him. “Here,” he said to Amity, holding a hand up, “let me take your bag. I can’t imagine you’ve ridden in one of these before, so you’ll probably want to have Luz help you into the front.”

Amity hesitated a moment before dismissing the ridiculous thought of refusing his help, handing it over. He set her bag alongside Luz’s, filling the back of the two rows of seats. Luz looked back at her from where she’d pulled herself up onto the vehicle, a hand extended, which Amity took. Before she could really make sense of it, Luz had placed herself in the middle of the bench-like seat at the front of the truck, settling Amity in next to her. With a few practiced motions, the human closed the door behind them, flicked some aperture open in front of her that bombarded her face with warm dry air, and rolled up the pane of glass to her right.

“Why do you always leave the windows open while you have the heat on?” Luz asked her father as he pulled himself up and into his side of the truck.

“ _ Mantiene el aire fluyendo, mija, _ ” he replied absentmindedly as he checked the set of mirrors that were mounted around the cabin. Amity didn’t catch a word of it, but Luz didn’t seem that satisfied with the answer either, so she probably hadn’t missed anything important. Fixing her with another grin and a roll of her eyes, Luz’s expression quickly turned thoughtful, a moment of hesitation across her features, and then she was reaching across her again. Before it had been practical, but as Luz reached over her and pulled some sort of strap out of the wall, drawing it across her body, Amity couldn’t help the blush that spread across her face. 

“It’s to keep you from going out the window if we crash,” Luz said, by way of explanation, as she clicked some metal object at the end of the strap into a box by her waist. The way her hand brushed against her hip in the process certainly didn’t help Amity’s state of mind.

“ _ Mija _ ,” Miguel interjected, eyes focused on the road ahead as the truck began to move, “maybe don’t introduce your friend to the idea of a car by immediately describing a crash?”

“Right,” Luz muttered, wincing, “not my brightest idea.”

“How fast does this thing go?” Amity asked as it sped up, voice ever so slightly panicked. Which was an incredible bit of acting on her part, if she did say so herself, because Titan, was she feeling way more than  _ ever so slightly _ panicked.

“Do you want me to answer that?” Miguel asked, shifting in his seat to let Luz buckle her own strap into place. Augustus  _ had  _ mentioned something about them, hadn’t he? Seat… belts? She supposed the name made sense.

“I’m not sure,” Amity admitted quietly. Then, because she just couldn’t help it, a quiet “yes” that earned a grin out of him.

“Right now, we’re cruising at forty miles an hour,” Miguel explained, gesturing to a gauge in front of him that indicated just that, “but we’ll be pushing that up to sixty once we get on the highway.”

“Forty…” Amity whispered, “ _ sixty _ miles an hour.” She ran the conversion into her head, and the realization made her blood run cold. They were  _ hurtling  _ along the road, and it barely felt like they were moving. If they suddenly stopped…

Amity pulled at her “seatbelt,” making sure it was securely fastened until a hand settled on her own. Looking up, she found Luz grinning back at her, an equally reassuring grin on her father’s face behind her. Despite herself, the tension in her shoulders relaxed.

“Don’t worry,  _ brujita _ ,” Luz assured her, Amity noticing the way one of Miguel’s eyebrows went up at the nickname, “we’ll keep you safe.”

“Damn right we will,” Miguel added, his grin somehow getting even  _ wider _ . Again, Amity couldn’t help the warmth that spread through his chest. The expression on her face wasn’t quite a smile, of that much she was certain, but it was close, and that was the closest she’d been in a week.

“Now,” he continued, voice suddenly serious, “we come to the moment of truth.”

“The moment of truth?” Amity asked nervously, confusion flaring as Luz groaned out a pained “Papá, no” beside her.

“Hey, shotgun shuts her cakehole,” he replied, nudging her shoulder and earning another eye roll for her efforts. “I give to you,” he continued, voice trailing off as he fiddled with some sort of device mounted in the interior between them, “the lyrical genius of Joan Sebastian!”

The first few notes of a guitar filled the cabin, accompanied by a man’s voice quietly reciting something in Spanish. That quickly transitioned into this soft, crooning tone that Amity didn’t even need to understand the words of to grasp the meaning. Or at least the intention. It was hard to tell whether Luz was blushing for the same reason, the fact that Miguel had loudly joined in, or some combination of the two.

But as they drove along the road at a pace Amity couldn’t even  _ think  _ about without leaving her stomach behind, she felt this strange sense of peace. As the sights of the Human Realm finally started to take on that wonder she’d been missing and the track transitioned to a second, equally blush-inducing love song, the last of the tension she’d been holding began to fade. It wasn’t gone. Titan, it probably never would be. And yet, as crazy as it was, she found herself believing their words, the intent behind their smiles.  She felt safe, felt happy, felt embarrassed. More than anything, she  _ felt _ .

Titan, how she’d missed the light.

~---~

Camila Noceda was exactly as Luz had described her; short, compact, and perpetually in motion. Amity’s brain couldn’t help but pick up the hundred little mannerisms that she’d come to expect from her daughter, the little tics and motions that told her that yes, Camila was just as hyperactive as Luz was, but that she’d also managed to channel it into a single-minded productivity. Walking through the door even was a breakneck whirlwind of conversation, greetings, coats being taken and secreted away, bags set at the top of the stairs (because if you leave them at the bottom, they’ll never get taken up), and goodbyes given as Miguel departed, a certain nervousness to him whenever Camila glanced his way that Amity registered between introductions.

In short order, Camila dismissed any nerves Amity may have had over whether she approved of her or not by taking her by the shoulders, a faint spark of a question in her eyes and, at her nod, wrapping her up in a hug that held more warmth, more comfort than any hug had the right to hold. She hoped Miguel didn’t take it too personally, but a final goodbye and a click of the door behind her let her know she wouldn’t have to face that conversation any time soon.

Luz stood off to the side, nervous, and Amity couldn’t blame her. If Lilith had insisted on some long, heartfelt hug the moment she’d seen Luz, she likely would have been just as unsure of how to act. It took her a moment to realize that Camila had pulled away. She wasn’t used to being taller than just about anyone that wasn’t three years her junior, but Amity still felt like she was looking up at the woman. She laughed internally at how much sense it made that someone like Luz would have two parents who commanded attention wherever they went.

“Amity,” Camila began, clearly choosing each word carefully, “I want you to know that you are welcome in our home, that you should feel no need to repay me in any way, and that if you offer to do so I won’t even acknowledge it.”

“ _ Mama _ -” Luz began, voice pained.

“ _ No me interrumpas, mija, _ ” Camila tossed back at her daughter, venomless, before turning back to Amity. “I understand that there are things you’d rather not talk about, and that I may not know what these things are until after I say something. So please,” she pleaded, pressing Amity’s hands between her own, her voice lowered to a pitch she knew was meant only for her, “let me know if things are getting to be too much for you, and we can switch topics quick as that. I raised this one, Lord knows I can keep a half-dozen conversations going at once already.”

“I- I don’t really know what to say,” Amity admitted in a whisper of her own.

“Tell me that you’ll be happy to stay here as long as you need to,” Camila supplied with a genuine grin, “and that you’ll help out with some chores here and there.”

Amity took a breath, using the moment it gave her to collect herself. She  _ wasn’t  _ going to burst into tears in front of Luz’s mom. Even if she was all but certain the only person that would be upset about that would be her. 

“I’ll be happy to stay as long as I need to,” Amity forced herself to say, growing more confident with each word, with each subtle squeeze of Camila’s hands around her own, “and I’ll help with any chores you might need doing.”

“Good,” she replied in turn, as if that were that. “ _ Ciertamente sabes cómo elegirlos, mija _ ,” she added, her tone teasing, to Luz, who immediately turned a shade of red that Amity had always liked on her. Those words though, did she know them?  _ Ciertamente _ , that was “certainly,” she was sure of it. As for the rest…

“ _ Todo- _ ,” she began, blanching as Camila’s attention shot back to her. Stilling herself, she thought for a moment before finding the right words. “ _ Todavía no estoy segura de eso. _ ” Her accent was awful, that much she knew, but the sentiment was real. Better yet, the way the woman’s eyes lit up at hearing the familiar language made every fumbled vowel worth it.

“You’re teaching her?” Camila asked her daughter, bemused.

“Sure am,” Luz boasted, wrapping an arm around Amity’s shoulder. Somehow, it seemed to bother her a lot less than she thought it would. “Though someone,” she added, squeezing her, “keeps going off and learning things on her own.”

Amity forced that little niggling doubt at the back of her mind further away from her thoughts. With both of them looking at her, genuine expressions of care on their faces, it was a lot easier than it had been before. She finally managed a smile. It was a thin, watery thing that felt strange on a face that hadn’t borne one for more than a week, but seeing the way it earned her a pair of grins that were practically mirror images of one another, well, that only made her own wider.

Figures that Luz’s parents would be just as kind as she was. Just as careful with her, but also just as willing to try and pull her out of her shell. She needed it now more than ever. But now, now she wasn’t as worried about being here, away from the Isles. And as Luz excitedly pulled her upstairs to “show off her bedroom,” as Camila called up after them to wash up for dinner while they were up there, there was a different sensation curling up in her chest. Like her soul, threadbare as it was, was re-knitting itself, slowly but surely.

But that was totally just her imagination, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there folks, bit of a delay on this one. Turns out, school still requires a good amount of time and effort during a pandemic. Who knew? Anyways, this was originally meant to be all one chapter with the next one, but I decided to cut it in two so I could get something out. Hope you all enjoyed!


	19. Empathy

_ It’s the same dream every night. Her back to the desk, an appraising eye following her every movement, a keen ear that catches every error. _

“The act of spellcasting is an ordered subordination of the world’s magic to one’s will; the purest expression of dominance over all that is wild and untamed.” 

_ Her own voice, high and clear; so painfully young. _

It rings out against the wood-paneled walls of her mother’s study, collects in the darkened corners, each syllable her potential undoing. She shivers in the cold; never quite enough to see her breath, but always just at the edge. Her mother has never deigned to explain why it’s kept that way for their lessons, the fireplace dim and unused.

_ She’ll build a fire before she leaves. She always does. _

“Continue,” snaps her mother’s voice from behind her. Icier still than the air around her, and twice as harsh. She ignores the dryness of her tongue, the glass-shard soreness of her throat, and complies.

“For it is only by domination that we shall beat back the wildness of these lands,” she continues, teeth gritting against the pain of straining muscles. Still, she holds herself higher, shoulders forced back. “From domination, comes order. And from order, comes peace. For we, the chosen of the Titan, this is the only way.”

She jumps as thunder booms behind her; a hand that slams against a desk polished smooth. In time with the noise, the wisping tendrils of something vacuous press her half-opened hand into a fist-

_ Nothing more than a nervous tic. Her fault. Her mistake. _

Her pendant lay clutched too tightly in her hand. She’s broken the skin again. Wood is at least easier to clean than a rug, and it’s that fact alone that grants her solace.

“For we,” her mother amends, voice sickly sweet, “the chosen of the Titan, this is the only  _ path _ .” She lets the silence hold for a moment, rebuke plainly interwoven, before continuing. “As usual, you fail to meet even the barest standard of accuracy.”

“It was only one word, mother,” the girl snaps, voice thin. Her eyes draw wide at the realization she’s  _ spoken back _ . That she’s dared to use a  _ tone _ .

“One word?” her mother asks, voice uncharacteristically warm. “Well, if it was only one word, I suppose that’s not too great an omission.”

“It’s not?” she replies, too young yet to realize the trap that’s been laid.

“Oh, of course not dear,” her mother assures, “I’m certain the Emperor didn’t spend decades discerning the true nature of magic. More years still condensing all he’d learned into a single statement that defines all we are and stand to become. In fact,” she continues, voice drawing to a razor’s edge, “I’m  _ certain _ that you could omit any number of words from said address when you are presented to him. I’ve been told he’s very forgiving of mistakes made in the delivery of his magnum opus.”

“I apologize, mother,” the girl replies, eyes cast to the ground, breathing shallow and harsh. “Allow me the opportunity to repeat it. To correct myself.”

Her mother says nothing for a long moment. And then, just when she’s begun to think that the morning might become one of those rare occasions where she is simply permitted to be ignored instead of taught, her mother’s clicking heels blow the spark out before it can take hold. Her head snaps back up, spine so straight she swears she can hear it  _ creak _ in protest.

“Tell me, Amity,” her mother asks, now face to face with her, “do you feel that you’ve  _ earned _ the opportunity to correct yourself?”

Mirrored pools of amber meet, reflections of one another that couldn’t be more different. Her mother’s, cold and glassy, yet burning with an inner power that’s less fire and more lightning. The crackling spark of potential. In an instant, lashing towards her with all the intensity of a storm distilled into one bolt. She can’t see her own, of course, save for in the reflection. And in those appraising depths, she looks very small, so very distant. But there is always distance between them. Her mother never closes it, even to discipline her. No, she would never do anything that might blemish a Blight’s perfection.

“No answer?” her mother whispered, lightning gathering behind her eyes.

“I cannot think of one that would satisfy you mother,” Amity replies quickly, “and so I decided instead to say nothing.” As she speaks, her fingers draw themselves shut, clasping around the-

_ Why does her hand hurt? Why can’t she remember? _

“If you feel it necessary,” her mother says from behind her, again seated at her desk, “you may take the opportunity to start from the beginning.” 

“Thank you mother,” Amity breathes in response, ignoring the tears that streak down her face. Ignoring especially the warmth that wells up between her fingers and drips off of them. Steeling herself, drawing up to her full height, she takes a breath and begins again.

“All that you have known and all that you have built is nothing more than the fleeting image of an arrogance unfounded in reality…”

It takes her exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds to work her way through the address. Exactly as long as it had taken the Emperor, some forty years ago, when he’d first spoken it at the end of his campaign. There is not a single mistake this time, and for her success, she is granted the opportunity to stand by the fire for just as long before she is dismissed to her studies. 

It is the twentieth day of the Month of Light’s Return (which Edric had been assigned an extra month’s worth of runecarvings for daring to shorten to “Liret”). Rhiasday, which means she’ll have an hour to read in the garden before Lilith arrives. 

It is also her birthday. She is ten, and since the twins have already left for the morning, it means that no one has so much as acknowledged that fact. Perhaps, if she is lucky, they’ve all forgotten. It’s a busy time of year, after all. Maybe, if she stays out of her mother’s sight, she can avoid the day and its obligations altogether.

Such thoughts haunt her as she passes through the door into her bedroom; distracting her so much that she does not notice the walls shrinking around her. That when she closes the door and turns to see herself in the mirror hung on its back, it is another version of her that meets her gaze. 

Hair far longer than mother would ever allow her to grow it. The roots seem to be winning out against the dye, though it’s far more of a siege than a charge. Her body has filled out, skin more tan than could ever be decent. She cannot tell how much taller this version of her is because the sight of it has caused her to stumble and fall to the floor. But, no, that’s not quite right, is it?

_ Her eyes slip out of focus, and when she forces them back, she can see it. _

Something else in the reflection with her. Long and serpentine, a clinging, ragged form that begins at her right hand, the pendant still clasped within, and coils around her chest, her heart. The more she focuses on it; the more she pushes past the fogginess that overwhelms her mind at the sight of it, the more it resolves into view.

Somewhere between a leech and a serpent. Its mouth like a ring of fanged tendrils, biting deep into her  _ soul _ . But even as she watches, there is a flash of gold and one of those searching tendrils crumbles to ash. Its body, she realizes, is not meant to be  _ this _ thin. There is so much excess to its form, sloughing off of a frame that is rigid in all the wrong places. It's starving, but there’s still life left in it. Or at the very least, the mockery of it.

_ She can’t look away. _

The realization hits her cold and hard between the ribs, ripping the air from her lungs. One by one, the floorboards of her bedroom are ripped away by something that steals her sight of it the moment she glances in its direction. The sunlight peeking between her shades bleeds light that dwindles and is drawn beyond sight. Caught between memory and blank, something and nothing, she tries to close her eyes and finds that she no longer has control. Something vacuous pulls her eyelids open and-

No, she  _ will  _ remember.

And the voice that echoes out of the darkness is something beyond sound, beyond time. It is most certainly  _ not  _ the thing wrapped around her, similar perhaps, but something much older. It is the progenitor, the source. It is an unmaking. And as it speaks to her, each word rips a piece of her away until there’s nothing left.

**“Then you have chosen to be empty.”**

~---~

Amity didn’t wake from her dream so much as it simply ceased to be. There was a part of her aware of the fact that she was gasping for air. Another, far greater part that panicked at the realization that she could not  _ feel  _ anything. The only reason she knew that there was any potential for motion left in her body was the faintest glimpse of her right hand, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. It opened and closed in time with what she assumed to be her panicked breaths.

It had been a long time since such panic had taken her so soon after sleep, but she’d never forgotten the cold terror of returning to the world and still feeling as if she were sleeping. As if her sight had chosen to return on its own, leaving the rest of her behind. Her eyes found the ceiling, and she resolved to wait for the moment to pass. To simply let herself slip away into the darkness and desperately hope that feeling would return, that she would remember how to breathe before another sort of darkness took her.

_ Her hand stilled. _

Another had pressed into it, fingers weaving between her own. Forcing it open. Keeping it from drawing shut. And from that point of contact, that anchor to a warmth that was not her own, sensation slowly began to ebb back into her body. Muscles, drawn tight. Her chest convulsing with her desperate attempts to breathe. An arm lifted by another, her hand pressed to their chest, and a voice, low and insistent, that pleaded with her to “Breathe, Amity,  _ please _ .”

With agonizing slowness, her breath began to even out. Guided into harmony with a pace willfully kept smooth and even regardless of the tears that streaked down the face above her. Wetness pricked at her cheeks as sensation returned to them, and Amity could not tell whose eyes they’d fallen from.

But then they met, amber locked on brown, a connection rekindling for a moment only for it to be stamped out and doused before it could so much as crackle.

Cold swept through her chest at the sight of the disappointment, the hurt that Luz couldn’t quite hide in time. But then, miraculously, she pushed it away, leaving only concern in its wake. This sad smile crept across her face instead, her voice hoarse as she whispered to the witch below her.

“I’m here. Amity, I’m here.”

Over and over again like a mantra. Like it was nothing and everything all at once. The sort of concern that melted her walls as if they were ice rather than stone. The sort of compassion that was entirely undeserved. That was dangerous.

“I’m sorr-”

“Don’t,” Luz whispered, cutting her off. “ _ Please _ , don’t say you’re sorry.”

“But I woke you up,” she replied weakly. Her cowardice evident only to her. The sort of flimsy excuse only a fool would come up with, but Luz was no fool. Still, she relented, and though Amity could see the disbelief in her eyes, that too was swept away.

“Why do you think I’m here next to you in the first place?” Luz countered.

“I told you that you didn’t need to be,” Amity replied, forcing her voice to remain within a stone’s throw of a whisper, “The last thing I want to do is give Camila a reason to be mad at me.”

“It was her idea, Ams,” Luz responded, that same smile still across her face. That same compassion that she couldn’t bring herself to meet. She needed something else, some other emotion to feel, so she settled on anger.

“Well I’m glad you all feel the need to baby me,” Amity snapped in response.

“Ah,  _ brujita _ , don’t be like that.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Despite herself, Amity found her voice rising. But really, what right did  _ she _ have to tell her to just calm down, to not be upset? “Everyone keeps walking and talking around me like I’m so blessed fragile. Like they’re worried I’m going to break.”

“Amity, we’re just worried about-”

“Well where was that worry when I was a little girl?” the witch asked, cutting her off. It wasn’t fair to ask her - she hadn’t been around - but fairness was the last thing on her mind. She’d  _ fed  _ this anger, and there was nothing left to stop it. “I went through  _ hell  _ every single day; I was so lonely all the time, and now everyone else is just moving on and I’m supposed to, what, just  _ forget  _ about everything?”

“Amity,” Luz whispered, “I don’t know where this is all coming from-”

“Where’s it coming from?” she asked in turn, incredulous. “It never left. That’s not the way these things work. You don’t just get over them. They gnaw at you and they pull you down and they make everything feel like it’s-”

“Temporary?” Luz asked, voice suddenly firm. Not rough, not angry, just tired, and the sound of it, the realization of  _ who  _ exactly, who she was letting face an anger she didn’t even come close to deserving? It tore her heart as surely as any claw, any fanged tendril or vacuous hand. 

“Like you’re always just waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Luz continued, her tone darker with each word, “but it doesn’t come, so you just keep putting up more and more walls, telling yourself more lies. Everyone else is moving forward, so why can’t you?”

“I didn’t… I wasn’t talking about you-”

“But you were talking  _ to  _ me, Amity,” Luz stated.

“I’m sorry,” Amity whispered, voice breaking, and she would have said more had Luz not pulled her to her chest. Her arms went weak as Luz’s wrapped around her. Higher thought faded away, for better or for worse. On one hand, it was of hard to feel anxious when she felt so safe. On the other, she couldn’t quite process whether or not this is something they were  _ supposed  _ to be doing. Whether it was something she  _ deserved. _

“I’m not mad at you Amity,” she breathed into her ear, warm breath catching her skin alight as it went, “and I’m not upset either. I’m just... worried. About you, about this whole situation. I feel like you’re pulling away from me when I-” she stopped, and Titan, Amity wished she hadn’t, “When we need each other most.”

“I don’t mean to,” she admitted.

“Then don’t,” Luz pleaded, cutting her off before she could object, “And, no, I know it’s not easy. Believe me, I  _ know _ , but whenever everything gets to be too much and you feel like you should run, maybe… Maybe try running towards me? Promise I’ll be there to catch you.”

Amity let the words hang, promising herself that she’d find some sort of response that would do them justice, to express just how much they meant, but seconds quickly turned to minutes. Each stretched longer than the one before it, time itself ceasing to have meaning as she lost herself in the rhythmic breathing of the form beside her. In the silence of the room, broken only by Luz’s voice, softly humming…

_ Why did that sound so familiar? _

“Are you humming?” she found herself asking, the words never bothering to check in with her brain before they left her lips.

“What?” Luz asked, blinking blearily in the moonlight, “Oh, sorry, I’ll stop.”

“No, that…” Amity trailed off, trying (and failing) again to find the right response. “It sounds familiar is all, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”

Luz blushed in response, and Amity felt a pang in her heart at the context she was missing. At the Bond that begged to be reopened, emotions and sensation allowed to flow freely across the space between them. The connection now severed for the human’s own good.

“What is it?” she asked instead, earning only a deeper blush for her effort.

“Well, when everything…  _ happened _ ,” Luz began, tone sharpening for a moment before skating over a memory neither of them wanted to recall, “I may or may not have torn across town to get to where you were-”

“Define ‘torn across,’” Amity interrupted, suddenly worried.

“Not important,” Luz replied, far too quickly, “Anyways, the only reason I knew where you  _ were _ is because I could kind of, sort of,  _ hear  _ you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Eda thinks I may have accidentally opened up my sixth in the middle of that, ah, escapade.”

“Luz, you don’t just ‘open up’ your sixth,” Amity replied, incredulity overriding anxiety for the moment, “It takes witches decades of study and introspection to even get close.”

“Yeah, that’s what Lilith said,” Luz conceded, “Almost exactly, actually.” She stilled for a moment, a thumb running over Amity’s pulse as she stared at some distant point. She didn’t need a Bond to recognize the look of deep thought that marked the human’s features more and more often these days. “Whatever it was, I was able to find you in the middle of town by listening for you. It was like music; this melody that I just knew belonged to you.”

“And that was what you were humming?” 

“It sounds kind of weird when you say it out loud like that.”

“It’s not weird-” Amity began, stopping as she said it, as she realized that, okay, maybe it was a little weird. “Well, okay, it is kind of weird,” she amended, “Just, maybe not weird in a  _ bad  _ way, you know?”

“Oh?” Luz asked, a tentative smile curling across her face that Amity pointedly chose to ignore.

“It’s comforting, but in an odd way…”

“Do tell,” Luz teased, and Amity could tell it was exactly the out the human had been looking for. It was a mask, as surely as the one she herself wore. And as much as she hated to admit it, if this was Luz’s way of distracting her from the nightmare, it was working. Fine, she’d let herself be persuaded. Of course, there was no way she was going to let her win a point here of all places. Homefield advantage or not.

“Forget I said anything,” she breathed instead, attempting to turn away from the human but unable to overcome the resistance her arms provided.

“Oh no,” Luz challenged, voice strengthening, arms holding her firm, “not in a million years.”

“You know, it’s- Well, I guess you could say it’s sort of like vibrating something at the right frequency.”

And that, of course, was the absolute  _ worst  _ thing she could have said, judging by the way the blush that flared across Luz’s cheeks was at least as bright as her own. Still, by whatever fiendish magic animated her, the human had the audacity to  _ grin  _ through the embarrassment. Amity gulped as the grin shifted from embarrassed to sly, and she felt her stomach practically fall through the mattress when her eyes narrowed.

“Hmm…”

“Luz, don’t you dare.”

She, of course, didn’t listen, and when she started  _ humming  _ again? Well, Amity felt that same sensation vibrate across her skin. It was hard to explain, really. She was fairly certain she wasn’t hearing it so much as  _ experiencing  _ it. The sound of it suffused every tissue, ran medleys over every bone and sinew, massaging away tension and leaving her so heart-achingly content she practically fell asleep on the spot.

_ And then she purred. _

“Was that?” Luz asked, voice pitching up to something just at the edge of her hearing, “Did you just-”

“No!”

“You absolutely just did,” the human whispered, voice awestruck. Amity tried and failed to escape her grasp a second time and, finding no escape, chose instead to bury her head in the human’s chest.

_ Which was a great idea in more ways than one. _

“I did  _ not _ ,” she asserted, the force of it diminished for the muffling effect of the, ah,  _ medium _ .

“ _ ¡Brujita, no sabía que pudieras ronronear! _ ” Luz practically squealed.

“I  _ don’t _ ,” Amity asserted with absolutely zero force to her tone. She forced herself to pull away, to look Luz in the eye, and that was the worst damned mistake  _ yet _ .

Because her eyes were dragging lazily over her body, shamelessly appraising her, and Amity felt her brain shut off. No ceremony, no grand comparison. One minute on, the next minute off. The lizard part of her brain acknowledged that Luz had placed her hand on the side of her face, that she gently traced along her jaw and under her chin. As it went, the human began to hum again, and that treacherous little part of her brain that fired back to life at the joint sensation couldn’t help but give her  _ exactly the  _ response she was looking for.

The purr rumbled out of her chest and shook her to her core. Her blush somehow managed to grow even deeper, her ears flapping in embarrassment as she pushed her head back into the space between them.

“You’re absolutely horrible,” Amity muttered from somewhere halfway between paradise and perdition.

“Aww,” Luz teased, pulling her closer, “you don’t mean that.”

“No, I do,” Amity insisted, “First, you’re holding me while I cry, and now you’re just sitting there teasing me.”

“Only because you’re so easy to tease.”

“That doesn’t make it any better. How would you like it if I teased you?”

_ Silence reigned. _

“Luz Noceda,” Amity growled, playing her trump card with the full name, “if you don’t come up with an answer in the next five seconds, I’m going to be forced to come up with my own-”

“I didn’t trust myself to answer,” Luz interjected, doing her blush no favors.

“You didn’t…” Amity repeated, trailing off as realization struck her.

Oh.  _ Oh. _

“I’m going to bed,” Amity insisted, giving up on trying to break free of the human’s grasp (weak nerd arms her ass), and instead burying her head somewhere soft and warm that she had to force herself not to think about.

“Do you want me to-”

“No,” Amity demanded, painfully aware of the fact that she was pushing her luck to its absolute limit, “You stay right there. I command it.”

“Oh, well if you  _ command  _ it…”

Luz’s arms curled around her, pulling their bodies together until they fit flush against one another. Imagination or not, Amity swore she could feel  _ something  _ pull away with each breath, every heartbeat. The world faded into a series of pulses, warm and reassuring, that lulled her just to the edge of sleep. But not before she remembered her question; the only one that mattered.

“Luz?”

“Yeah,  _ brujita _ ?”

“Promise you won’t leave?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

_ And she let herself believe it. _

~---~

Humans, as it turned out, had many of the same games that witches did. They just had this hangup on the whole “serious mortal danger” aspect of even the simplest board games that Amity was more than happy to indulge. Cards were just as fun with and without the minor demons that inhabited each deck and punished cheaters.  _ Lexicon _ , however, what Camila called “Scrabble,” was an entirely different game without the ability to challenge other players to duels over whether or not a word ought to be counted.

Really, that just made it a lot more fun. Amity was as competitive as the next witchling, but the reduction of the game to just making words with the highest point values? Absolutely visionary. Granted, half the words she was used to weren’t valid, and without the whole “no dueling” thing, it wasn’t like she could  _ make  _ them valid, but still. She got to  _ competitively _ make words.

Or, at least, it was competitive on paper.

“No,” Amity stated, unwilling to accept the reality laid out before her.

“No?” Camila asked, the barest hint of a smile creeping up her face.

“There’s absolutely no way the word ‘crankshaft’ is a real thing.”

“I can assure you,  _ mija _ , it’s a real word.”

“You’re messing with me, right?” Amity asked, desperate even though she knew the answer. They were playing a game; Camila wouldn’t just  _ lie. _ Still, she’d been proud of working ‘shaft’ out of the older woman’s point-heavy ‘flower.’ Now she wasn’t entirely sure it hadn’t been some sort of ploy to make this utter nonsense word. But there was no way Camila could have known what letters she had…

_ Could she? _

“Would you like another coffee, Amity?” Camila asked as she pushed herself back from the dining room table, gesturing towards the pot on its little heating plinth. Amity just nodded in response, focus entirely taken up by the victory slipping through her fingers. By the time the woman returned to the table, setting a steaming cup in front of her, she’d proudly sat back to reveal the addition of the word ‘jagged’ to the board.

Her gratuitously long sip of her coffee was nearly her undoing. Camila casually placed a few letters on the board, barely worth a thing on their own, but based on where they spelled out ‘thus’ they earned her enough points to put Amity firmly in second place. She said nothing, and the witch was fairly certain the smug energy radiating off of her was only in her imagination, but it still stung.

“Luz tells me that you’re quite the reader,” Camila quipped as she sat back, “that you read a lot of the same books she does.”

“Oh, yeah,” Amity replied, concentration on the game momentarily broken, “she’s introduced me to a lot of books from your world.”

“ _ Our _ world…” Camila mused, a soft smile on her face. Amity always forgot that the whole idea of a “human and demon realm” wasn’t exactly the sort of thing most people on this side believed in. Taking advantage of one of her blank pieces, she spelled out the word ‘ablate,’ earning a low whistle from the woman that drew a bit of a blush to her cheeks.

“Clearly, you learned more from them than she did,” Camila joked, chuckling as she turned the board to face her. There was a faint sadness to it, nothing major, but still notable.

“Luz doesn’t like this game?” Amity guessed, earning a smile and a nod for it.

“She has a hard time focusing long enough to make anything longer than a couple letters,” Camila replied, shaking her head at the thought, “and half the time, she just makes things up and says we should duel to see whether it ought to be counted or not.”

“That may be our bad,” Amity admitted, “well, our side of the fence, that is.”

Camila’s eyebrows went up, but she said nothing. Amity felt a bead of sweat form on her brow as the woman scanned the board, eagle-like gaze searching for the perfect opportunity to end her once and for all. She found it at the site of a previous victory, tacking ‘coded’ onto ‘crankshaft’ and earning herself another ten points in the process. Humming to herself, she picked four more letters out of the bag between them.

“So,” Camila asked, voice cutting into the silence, “would those Azura books happen to be something that you’ve read?” 

Amity’s blush had to have been more than enough of an answer, but the woman simply waited for a response, nodding sagely as the witch finally choked out a feeble “yep.”

“I thought as much. Luz would’ve never marked up those books unless she had a good reason. They meant too much to her.” Her look shifted to something that Amity couldn’t quite place, something dangerous. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that,  _ mija _ , would you?”

“Nope, nothing at all,” Amity responded, lying through her teeth as she amended ‘wind’ onto the middle letter of Camila’s ‘coded.’ The woman didn’t even bother to acknowledge her valiant attempt at a comeback, skipping to the other side of the board and making the word ‘brain’ from another she’d set there ages ago. Amity was focused on one battle at a time, but Camila was fighting the entire war and making it look easy. All while seeing through any half-truth she tossed in her direction.

_ Titan, she was glad Luz took after her dad in the personality department. _

Those two were out together as they spoke. Or, well, as Camila spoke and Amity sputtered along. Their joint insistence that they would “keep _ each other _ out of trouble” had apparently been enough to convince her. Even if Amity couldn’t help but compare it to watching her siblings beg Lilith to let them tag along on missions. It certainly hadn’t been enough to convince  _ her _ , but well, it wasn’t like she was in any position to object. Besides, Luz could probably use a break from-

“Oh yes,” Camila continued, as if sensing her spiral and interjecting to break her free, “it was just like old times once she came back. I don’t think there was ever a time when one of those books wasn’t glued to her hip.”

“She did what with them?” Amity asked, suddenly mortified. That would ruin the covers. Of all the odd, irresponsible things someone could do with a book, she’d never imagined that Luz would be guilty of such a heinous-

“It’s an expression,  _ mija _ .”

“Ah,” she replied, the pinnacle of eloquence, “that makes more sense.”

“And the look she’d get on her face sometimes,” Camila continued, returning to the topic as she set the first letter of her next word down. “It was like someone had written to her. Someone she’d been waiting a very long time to get a letter from, even though she must’ve gotten one two or three times a day.” As she spoke, she set down a different sort of letter down, one after another, and Amity couldn’t be sure if it was the fact that they just kept coming or that she’d gotten so close to the truth that was making her stomach drop through the chair.

“But, like you said, you wouldn’t know anything about that,” Camila concluded, setting her final piece down to finish the word ‘wizened’ and settling back in her chair to count out six new pieces to take their place.

“I may have something of an idea,” Amity admitted in a whisper, earning a genuine laugh from the woman across from her. Despite herself, she smiled, a sheepish little thing that tugged at the corners of her mouth and kept her from feeling true despair as she realized just how outclassed she was.

“So you used the books to pass notes back and forth then?” 

“Basically,” Amity admitted, blushing at the revelation.

“Hmm, I figured,” Camila hummed, her smile turning to something entirely familiar and equally awful, “Should I have read through those then? I’d hate to think anything inappropriate was passing under my nose.”

“W-what? No,” Amity replied, panicked, “I would never;  _ we _ wouldn’t-”

“Amity,” Camila interjected, “I know you wouldn’t do anything like that.” Her smile turned less sly, more genuine as her expression went thoughtful. “I guess there  _ are  _ plenty of explanations for why she would blush that much reading them.”

Amity busied herself with trying to salvage something of her dignity through the only means available to her - the board - but that wasn’t going too well. She got a good shot in by tacking ‘divy’ onto ‘wizened,’ but that could only get her so far. It certainly wasn’t going to get her out of this  _ conversation _ .

They parried and riposted a few more words between them, the board becoming a battlefield where Amity, however outmatched, at least held her own. Finally, when her curiosity could no longer stand it, the question bubbled past her lips.

“She blushed?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Well, there wasn’t enough time between now and its end for her to process  _ all of that _ , but she made a go of it anyways. Failed miserably, just like she was on the board, but she gave it a shot. Even corralled most of her thoughts back into sense before Camila dropped the next bomb.

“I was honestly surprised when I got that message from her,” Camila mused nonchalantly as she pulled a few more letters out of the steadily dwindling bag, “I wasn’t expecting her to bring you home so soon, even if it was under… unfortunate circumstances.”

“You were expecting me?” Amity asked, unable to keep the abject confusion out of her voice. Something about it must have clued Camila in, because she fixed her with a stare that could weather mountains.

“It’s not a tradition in the Isles to meet your girlfriend’s parents?”

As interesting a ride as it had been, Amity couldn’t blame her brain for finally deciding that enough was enough. It at least had the decency to leave the lights on when it left, but she was fairly certain that she was expected to have some sort of response for  _ that  _ question. Though how she was expected to formulate one was anyone’s guess.

_ Oh well, better give it a shot. _

“We’re not together Camila,” she stuttered out, earning an expression of utter horror on the woman’s face for her troubles.

“You’re not...” Camila repeated, trailing off, “Oh,  _ mija _ ,  _ lo siento, no tenía idea de que no estabas- _ ” 

“It’s fine,” Amity interjected, pride at her understanding of the words overshadowed by how absolutely  _ mortified  _ she was at the topic, “there’s no way you could have known-”

“Well, I suppose, but I still shouldn’t have just assumed-”

“No, it’s completely fine, trust me-”

“I just think you two are adorable together-”

“You and everyone else apparently,” Amity admitted ruefully, “but I can assure you, we’re  _ not  _ together.”

“Oh,” Camila said in response, earning a sigh of relief from Amity. And then, because the universe never ceased in its desire to wipe her out of existence, she asked the absolute last question she wanted to hear.

“Why not?”

“I don’t understand-”

“You clearly care for one another,” Camila continued, meticulously picking one piece after another off the board and placing them in the bag. “You complement each other nicely. Luz needs someone sensible to keep her from going overboard, and you could stand to be a bit less serious. Ah,” she said, cutting Amity off, “let me continue, please. I don’t claim to understand everything you’ve experienced, and I probably never will, but I can tell you what I  _ do  _ see.”

The way she phrased it made it clear that it was less of a statement and more of a question. Amity knew, somehow, that if she asked her to stop, she would, and that would be the end of it. Still, that same damned curiosity got the better of her.

“Please do,” Amity replied, surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded.

“You got hurt,  _ mija _ . Badly. And when you needed a place to recover, we all decided that the best place would be here, away from everything.” Camila looked out the window, onto the little strip of tamed grass and patio that dropped off into deep, ancient forest. “I’ll admit, mental health isn’t my specialty. I do better fixing what ails people physically. But I know shock when I see it, and that’s exactly how you came here. In shock, anxious, scared.”

Silence hung heavy between them, broken only by the sound of Camila gently tapping away at the tabletop. Each time she did, the pieces in the bag rattled, making this little monotonous clatter that Amity found strangely comforting.

“I’m sure she didn’t tell you,” Camila continued, “but Luz called me the day before you arrived, Miguel too. Told both of us what topics to avoid, some of what had happened, but not everything. We knew a lot of it from experience, but she was frantic, panicked even.”

“I never meant to make her worry,” Amity replied, guilt tearing across her heart.

“But she did,” Camila stated, “and it’s entirely because of how much  _ she  _ cares about  _ you _ . I’m sorry to say it, but you don’t get much of a say in that.”

“Guess I don’t,” Amity agreed ruefully.

“I’m not saying any of this to make you feel guilty,  _ mija _ . I just want you to understand how much you mean to her. And now that I’ve seen you together, well, anyone with  _ eyes _ could see how much you care about  _ her _ .”

“There’s just a lot of things to consider,” Amity countered, not intending to sound so defensive but finding herself there regardless. Camila nodded, but her expression was anything but convinced.

“I’m sure there are,” she conceded, “I mean, the whole ‘witches and magic’ thing is so much more than I’ll ever understand. But I think some things are pretty universal.”

“Like?” Amity asked, hating how desperate her voice sounded. If Camila noticed, she didn’t acknowledge it, for which she was eternally grateful. 

“Love,” Camila stated simply, Amity coming up short with any sort of response. “Trust me, I don’t mean in a romantic way; you two can handle that if and when you get there. But people don’t go through the things you’ve gone through and not form a bond.”

_ If only she knew. _

“What I’m getting at,” Camila continued, “is that I’m her  _ mother _ , Amity, and I want what’s best for her, but I’ve also got to let her make her own decisions.” She stopped tapping, reaching across the table and folding Amity’s hands in her own. “And she’s clearly decided on you. Now, I can’t tell  _ you  _ what to do, but I will say this. I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you’re happy one moment and withdrawn the next. I’ve-”

Her voice faltered for a moment, and Amity could see the way her eyes went glassy, moisture forming just at the corners. Titan, if Camila started crying,  _ she  _ would too, and that was the  _ last  _ thing either of them needed. 

“I’ve seen it happen before,” she pushed out. The raw pain in her voice leveled Amity, dread welling up at what her next words may be. The moment when she’d tell her to break it off. To spare her daughter the same pain she’d faced.

_ More than anything, she prepared herself to agree. _

“I’ve seen it happen,” she repeated, “and I don’t want her to have to feel that pain.” She looked up from the table, meeting Amity’s gaze with an intensity that left her breathless. “So don’t  _ let it happen. _ ”

“Camila?” Amity asked, unsure.

“You care about her?”

“Of course.”

“Would you do anything to keep her safe?”

“Without question.”

“Then there’s your answer,” the woman replied simply, sitting back in her chair. “You can’t push her away Amity, because you’ll hurt yourself as much as you hurt her, and the last thing you need on your shoulders is  _ more  _ hurt. There’s too much there already for one so young,  _ mija _ .”

“What should I do then?” Amity asked, shoulders slumping, eyes cast to the table.

“Take the right step,” Camila replied, her tone just as matter-of-fact as before.

“But how will I know what the ‘right’ step is?”

“You won’t,” Camila admitted, “but I’ll tell you this; it’s the same one each and every time.”

“What, the first one?”

“No,  _ mija _ , the first step is long gone. It’s the  _ next  _ one. Always the next step.”

Amity mulled it over. It seemed so simple, so impossibly easy, and yet, she couldn’t help the part of her that agreed. That  _ wanted  _ things to work. That didn’t want to just fold in on herself and give up.

_ It certainly wasn’t a coincidence that that part of her always spoke in Luz’s voice. _

“An awful lot of people seem terribly invested in your daughter and I getting together,” Amity observed, voice more resigned than offended. “But I’ll admit, I never expected you to be one of them.”

“Maybe we just all want the same thing for you two.”

“What’s that?”

“Happiness.”

And that? Well, that was the one that broke her. The tears she’d been holding back finally burst the dam, and before she could so much as sob, there was a hand on her shoulder. Hesitant, waiting for permission. She nodded, and a pair of arms wrapped around her. It was a mother’s hug, soft and warm and just about everything her own mother had never been able to muster. With the hardest pang of guilt yet, Amity realized it wasn’t the first one she’d received, but she pushed that guilt away for another day. She was good at that.

Instead, she let herself get carried away in it. In the soft insistences, not even words, that the woman whispered to her. She realized the implication in the gesture. The trust, the willingness to accept her into her life, into her daughter’s life. It was too much, really, but somehow she managed to pull herself together. To pull away and look Camila in the eye and nod. Not quite put back together, but close enough. The rest was on her.

“Now come help me in the kitchen,” Camila insisted, nodding in sync with the witch. “Whatever those two are doing, they’ll be hungry, and I’ve got to start showing you some recipes.”

“What for?” Amity asked, the beginnings of a smile crossing her face.

“ _ Oh mija, son perfectos el uno para el otro. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of another chapter. The response to this story remains incredible, and that's entirely due to you guys. As a little bit of behind-the-curtain insight, I've just recently commissioned an incredible artist for a piece that'll appear sometime in the next few chapters, so keep your eyes peeled. We're nearing the climax, people! On that note, you should expect updates roughly once a week from here on out. Seems to be a good way of balancing schoolwork and hobbies (this included) without burning myself out. Until then, I'll see you folks on the next one. Thanks, as always, for reading!


	20. La Familia que Mata Demonios Juntos...

Winter expressed its quiet discontent with the humans that dared brave its domain by steadily covering their truck with its loyal soldiers. They were parked atop a hill overlooking the river. In the summer, it was their fishing spot, a hobby that Luz had about as much patience for as anything else which required her to be still and quiet. To the point where there wasn’t much “fishing” going on at all. Maybe a better way to describe it would be “standing in a river and talking about the meaning of life.” Still, a great way to spend a summer afternoon.

An equally great way to spend a winter afternoon, in her opinion, was eating a burger the size of her head while staring out at the woods, music blasting over the radio, and listening to her dad try (and fail) to follow along with the lyrics through a mouth full of his own burger.

Or, it would be, were it not for the fact that the single most expensive gift she’d ever bought was burning a hole in her pocket.

“You’re sure she’ll like it?” She asked again, absolutely not for the fifth time since they’d parked.

“If she doesn’t, I’ll take it,” her dad responded, voice muffled by burger-matter.

“You’d wear this?” she asked him in turn, a rectangular, black jewelry box in her hand. She tried to keep the smile out of her voice - he was  _ far  _ from conservative - but the idea of him with something like  _ that  _ around his wrist was an image that she couldn’t help but laugh at. 

“What, you think I couldn’t rock it?”

“No, of course you could. I just didn’t think it was your thing.”

“Well,” he responded, evading her hands as he snagged a fry from her bag, “if  _ you  _ got it for me, I would wear it. And it is for the exact same reason that she’ll  _ love  _ it.”

“And that would be?” She asked, trailing off. 

“ _ You _ got it for  _ her, mija _ ,” he answered with a laugh, careful emphasis placed on each word, “I doubt she’ll ever take it off.”

“You’re still on that?”

“Still on what?” he asked, feigning innocence, “My daughter being a lady-killer? You know, most of the stories talk about the fae luring humans into  _ their  _ realm, not the other way around.”

“Amity’s  _ not  _ a fairy,” Luz amended, placing a heavy emphasis on the negative. She’d called Eda an elf once and the witch had all but smacked her. Once again, there’d been no explanation, just a sullen “don’t say that to anyone else if you value your life.”

“There a difference?” Her dad asked around another mouthful of burger. God, he was almost  _ done _ . Where did the food even go? She’d have to pick up the pace.

“You know,” she replied around her own mouthful, all propriety left at the door, “I’m not sure? It’s one of those things they don’t like talking about. Just like angels. You mention one or the other and they clam up. Total non-starter.”

“You’re looking into that, right?”

“Obviously.”

“That’s my girl.”

Quota of stereotypical fatherly pride statements fulfilled, they settled back into their grim work, and by the time Luz sat back, satisfied, her dad was already well on the way into his food coma. If previous experience was anything to go off of, he’d be there for a while.

_ Which really just made him a captive audience. _

“But you’re sure she’ll like it?” She asked again, earning a noise from him that was somewhere at the intersection of a groan, a burp, and a war horn. She’d have been disgusted if she wasn’t so impressed.

“Yes, _mija_ ,” he assured her, “ _un millón de veces sí._ _Ella te abrirá su corazón para siempre. Los reinos se levantarán y caerán. El mundo mismo dejará de existir. Y sin embargo sus corazones-_ ”

“ _Sí, papá,_ ” she interjected, blushing furiously, “ _lo entiendo, lo entiendo._ ”

“You’re a good kid,  _ mija _ ,” he insisted, “and she’ll be lucky to have you. I’m sure it’ll make her Christmas.”

Which, as sweet as it was, really did not help the situation. Groaning, Luz pressed her palms to her eyes, leaning back in her seat and letting out a huff of air that rattled the grease-stained bag in her lap.

“Hey, you have any of those glyph things on you?”

“Where did that come from?” she asked, utterly mystified. He’d never once asked about her glyphs beyond the day she’d first told him the truth. 

“Seemed like we were going to end up stuck in one of your flustered, teenage ‘I can’t take positive feedback or I’ll explode’ things, so I figured I’d change the subject.”

“One of my…” Luz began before trailing off.

_ Wait a second. _

“That’s not something I do,” she insisted, only to be met with her dad practically  _ barking  _ with laughter.

“ _ Mija _ ,” he began, struggling to get the words out between gasps for air and peals of laughter that shook the car, “believe me, it’s not just something you do. Half of the younger guys at the shop can’t take a compliment without doing the same thing. The other half pretend it doesn’t affect them, but then I catch them smiling to themselves the rest of the day.”

“So that’s why you keep doing it?” Luz asked, already knowing the answer.

“So that’s why I keep doing it,” he confirmed, wiping a tear from his eye. “You, however, put them all to shame.”

“So  _ why’d  _ you want to see one of my glyphs?” Luz asked, pointedly ignoring that last little jibe as she pulled her emergency deck from inside her jacket. It always paid to be prepared, after all.

“Edwin was going on about this ‘sacred geometry’ stuff the other day,” he explained, taking one of the cards she offered him and turning it over to look at the light glyph scribed on one side of it, “and some of the pictures he was showing me looked weirdly familiar.”

“How is Edwin?” Luz asked, curious about the funny old man. Well, “old” in the same way that her dad was old which was, to be fair, not exactly  _ young _ . Still, Edwin was the kind of guy that wore his years a lot more plainly than other men his age. She wasn’t quite sure what he  _ did  _ at the shop. Every time she’d dropped by, he’d been reading some battered old book he’d picked up at the thrift shop or going on about some story that was at least ninety percent fiction.

“Oh, he’s still Edwin,” her dad said by way of explanation, which was unsurprisingly enough to capture the full image of the enigma of a man. Turning the card over one more time, seemingly holding it up to the light, her dad nodded and handed it back. “Yep, definitely looks like those diagrams he showed me. I’ll have to see if he didn’t trade the book away already.”

“He trades his books?”

“Yeah, to the other guys at work. Usually for bits of their lunch. Though he did once give someone a copy of  _ The Catcher in the Rye  _ after they told a really good joke.”

“He really is an incredible specimen,” Luz mused, a faint smile on her face.

“Hey, you’re telling me,” her dad agreed, matching her smile with a much broader one of his own. “So,” he persisted, “how does it work?”

“What’s got you so interested all of a sudden?”

“What, I can’t be interested in what my daughter does? It’s practically your job at this point, from the sound of it.”

“No, you’re up to something,” Luz hypothesized, “and don’t think I’m going to forget about it just because you’re playing the ‘interested dad’ card.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” he responded, not even bothering to hide his grin.

Fine, he wanted a demonstration? Luz hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed when the card crumbled into ashes and got all over the floor. As if she  _ hadn’t  _ tried every possible way of getting her glyphs to work in the human realm. Mom had finally just bought her her own broom so that she’d stop messing up the bristles on the other one.

“Basically, it’s all about visualizing what you want the glyph to do,” she began, setting the card on the dashboard. The familiar lines of a light glyph caught her eye as she pressed two fingers to its base. “Each of the glyphs has a defined purpose, and I’ve figured out most of the ones I know through trial, error, and a good amount of luck. This one,” she indicated, tapping the card, “was actually the first one I learned.”

“Does it make light?” he asked, earning a surprised look.

“That’s exactly what it does,” Luz admitted, “how did you-”

“Like I said, it looked similar to one of those diagrams. Just wanted to be sure.”

“Now I really want to know where Edwin got his hands on that book,” Luz admitted, demonstration totally forgotten.

“The world is full of mysteries,  _ mija _ . Edwin just happens to have more than his fair share.”

“So he does…” Luz muttered, shaking herself back to reality. “Right, the glyph. Knowing what I know about the purpose of this glyph - ‘to make light’ - I press my fingers to it, like so, and then I press my will into it.”

“Press your will into it?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of like…” Luz trailed off, searching for a proper explanation. Out of the corner of her eye, something flickered, but she dismissed it when a few birds flew across the hillside ahead of them. “It’s sort of like focusing on something really hard and imagining what you want it to do.”

“Like how I’m focusing really hard on that bag I know still has fries in it and imagining that you’re passing it my way?”

“Yes,” Luz admitted, passing the bag to him, “exactly like that.”

“And like how you just made that light pop up?”

“How I made the-”

_ The glyph had worked. _

Floating a few inches off of the ground, admittedly smaller than the size that glyph would have normally made, was a little ball of light, flickering like the flame of a candle. As she watched, stunned, it flickered more and more aggressively until finally burning itself out.

“That-” she began, losing the words before they really had a chance to form. “That should not be able to happen.”

“Is it a bad thing?” her dad asked, genuinely confused. Granted, she was right there along with him.

“I don’t think so?”

“Oh, well that’s reassuring,” he joked, scuffing her shoulder, “My daughter can do magic, but she’s pretty sure it’s harmless to do in the enclosed cabin of my truck. I’m still making payments on this thing, you know?”

“It’s just a light glyph, dad,” Luz reassured him.

“Oh, it’s just a light glyph? Silly me, I totally forgot about my deep understanding of what that means.”

“You’re really annoying sometimes, you know that?”

“Well you had to get it from someone,  _ mija _ ,” he countered, “and Lord knows your mother is as no-nonsense as they come. Speaking of which…”

Casting his eyes over the terrain ahead of them, and especially at the sun that was slowly lowering towards the horizon, he seemed to make his decision. Luz followed his gaze, a quiet sigh escaping her lips at the sheer beauty of it laid out before them. Subtly overlaid hues of yellow and pink and red, all of them marked by a faint thinness, a sharpness to the air that she could never quite describe, but that had always made it easy to tell a summer’s sunset from its wintry counterpart.

_ Something moved in the valley below. _

It was subtle, nigh on imperceptible, but it wasn’t so much that she’d caught on anything in particular as it was that she’d noticed  _ something  _ move in a way that wasn’t quite right. That her brain had classified as something different and potentially dangerous. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t that uncommon. The first few weeks back, she’d seen monsters in every copse of trees, demons in every shadowed eave and corner. There was a park down there, she knew. It was probably just someone walking their dog.

“So,” her dad asked as he started the truck, casting an apologetic glance in her direction as she jumped at the sudden pair of noises, “you ready to get back?”

“Yeah,” Luz conceded, “better get going before they start to worry.”

“What do you think they’re doing anyways?” He asked, setting a hand on the back of her seat, his eyes focused on the road as he slowly backed up and onto it.

“Knowing mom and Amity? Probably getting way too into scrabble.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he admitted, chuckling. “You know, I taught your mother how to play that game.”

“You did?”

“Yep, and it was one of the best and worst things I did. Took her maybe five games to beat me. After that, I won maybe one more time, ever.”

“Ooh, did you get anything for it?”

“Well, about nine months later we had you, so…”

“Ah, no!” Luz begged, covering her ears. “Stop talking,  _ please! _ ”

He just laughed in response, turning the radio back up to full blast and singing along to some ancient Johnny Cash song. She wasn’t much of a fan, but she knew there was about a fifty percent chance of it being about prison. Sure enough, he was barely a few bars in before the word itself popped up. 

Fond smile on her face, she let herself zone out, contemplative as she passed another card between her hands. She’d have to run  _ that  _ particular development on the magical front past Amity. If she was lucky, she might get a glimpse of “nerdy Amity.” She did this thing where she tied up her hair with a pencil that made her weak in the knees. Unsurprisingly, she realized just how excited she was to see her  _ brujita _ .

And as the trees whipped past, sunlight steadily fading between their branches, she let herself drift into a cloud of pleasant thoughts and daydreams.

~---~

They were twenty minutes out when she saw it.

Impossibly tall and thin; limbs like spindly branches of some ancient, wizened tree. Each finger ending in a hooked claw of varying length. Its head, crooked and bedecked with a pair of horns, little slits of green fire in place of eyes, and its grin, God  _ its grin _ ; all mismatched fangs glinting awfully in the pale light of the steadily rising moon. As if in response to her gaze falling upon it, one of those wickedly claws bridged its lips, shushing her as it vanished from sight.

“ _ Mija _ ?” Her dad asked, undoubtedly picking up on the sudden tension in the car.

“Just keep driving,” she responded, brain working into overdrive as she tried to identify the thing. To figure out why it was here. Why it was after  _ her _ .

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he pushed, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to meet her gaze. The intensity of his stare staggered her. His eyes somehow equally locked in the moment and focused on some distant point.

“Something much worse,” she admitted, “We’re being followed.”

The shift in him was subtle, but immediate. His eyes locked dead ahead, though not before flicking to each of his mirrors in turn. His grip tightened on the steering wheel, back straightening to a perfect impression of a statue. In a moment, he was transformed. Gone was the joking, jovial man who’d been singing along to a radio she hadn’t even registered him turning off. The sight sent a chill up her spine.

“I’m guessing it’s something from the other side?” He asked after a moment, the humor utterly gone from his tone. Still, that warmth lingered. That sense of reassurance. Internally, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was still himself. She was just seeing his papa-bear instinct in action firsthand.

“Definitely,” she replied, doing her best to replicate his tone.

“Any idea what?”

“I’m thinking… I think it may be a hidebehind.”

“ _ Mierda, _ ” he swore quietly, eyes flicking to the treeline to either side of them. They didn’t have much further to go before they hit the highway, but there was still another solid five minutes of forest to drive through, the only offroads taking them deeper in. Still, the fact that he’d immediately known where to look...

“You know what that is?” Luz asked, incredulous.

“I’ve read about them,” he explained, gesturing vaguely at the forest around them, “Pretty common urban legend around these parts. Close to the stories?”

“Hides in the woods, lures people away from their companions, and then secrets them off to its lair, never to be seen again?”

“Yep.”

“Then yes,” Luz confirmed, “Though it’s not a beast. It’s a lesser demon, which actually helps us.”

“And how is that?”

“All demons are weaker when they pass into this realm,” she explained, recalling lessons from a very eager, very excitable teacher, “Still deadly, of course.”

“Well, of course,” he muttered darkly, “It’d be too easy otherwise.”

“It does work to our favor though. They may have easier access to prey over here, but there are certain drawbacks they have to face too.”

“We working under threshold rules?” He asked plainly, and she thanked whoever might be listening that her dad was such a damned nerd.

“That’s the big one, but we don’t want to lead this thing back anywhere. Now that it’s got our scent, we won’t be able to lose it. Even if it is slower than the truck.” Luz shuddered at the thought of that  _ thing  _ stalking around her neighborhood; peering in through windows and running its jagged claws over walls and doors. “One thing the stories don’t get right is that it doesn’t eat people,” she continued, starting to count out her cards in her hands, “It eats their  _ fear _ . It’d probably be more than happy to wait outside wherever we hunker down to either snatch us up or drive us insane. And who knows what it might do to get us to come out.”

“This thing could be a threat to other people?”

His tone had shifted again. That warmth was still there, but now there was an undercurrent of something stronger, darker even. For the briefest moment, she could imagine the sort of man that would leap into action to defend people he didn’t even know from a city that stood by and watched while they were chewed up and trampled over. He’d always been there, she realized, just waiting for opportunities like these to come out.

“It’s not like it faces much in the way of consequences,” she elaborated, separating twelve of the cards from the total and placing the rest back in their box, “Demons don’t die when they’re killed on this side. They just return to wherever they came from.”

“You said that was the big one. What are the others?”

“Right, magic still hurts them, so we have that going for us, but the big one is steel.”

“Steel, like iron?” Again, another point for nerdy dads. Of course he’d figure that one out right off the bat. He’d made her wear an iron charm every time they’d gone hiking, after all. “Just in case,” he’d say, “especially now that we know those things may actually be out there.”

“Kind of,” she affirmed, pulling herself back to the present, “but more along the lines of steel ‘grounding’ them.”

“Meaning?”

“When demons cross over, they weave their magic around them like a cloak,” she elaborated, suddenly regretting leaving her own back home, “It’s what gives them their power, their strength. Something about steel - probably the iron in it - draws that power away. And if you wound them with it, they’ll bleed that magic along with their blood.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re wrapped up in steel then,” her dad quipped humorlessly, one fist rapping on the truck’s dashboard.

“Aren’t most cars made out of plastic and fiberglass?”

“Most  _ new  _ ones are,” he specified, “but this old bastard’s all but solid steel.”

“Good to know…” Luz muttered, trailing off as possibilities suddenly flared to life before her. They were pretty close to the field, right?

“You getting an idea,  _ mija _ ?”

“I may have a few...”

~---~

Fifteen minutes outside of town, atop a hill at the dead center of an empty field, there stood a barn. It was the last remnant of a farm, the name of whose owner had long since passed from any record. The timbers of the farmhouse that once stood on the property had long since rotted or weathered away. Even the stones had been claimed for one property or another. Indeed, they formed a part of boundary walls and wells alike across two dozen properties in a ten-mile radius. Truly, the innovative spirit of people looking to save a few dollars knows no bounds. Which made it all the more odd that the barn was left standing.

Neither weather nor time had felled it, and that was the sort of thing that earned a place an uneasy blend of respect and fear that kept man from picking up the slack. Luz and her dad had come to the barn on more than one occasion in the last couple of years. It was a good place to camp, for one. Up on a hill and far enough away from any roads that no one would give them a hard time. Just enough shelter that if it really started pouring they could set up in a place with a roof over their heads rather than rough it on the ground. If you were brave enough, you could even get up in the hay loft, and that gave you just the right angle to see town over the crest of the next hill. It was a beautiful view.

Which made it all the more sad that, by the end of the night, there was a good chance it wouldn’t still be standing.

Standing alone in the middle of that abandoned barn, Luz did her best to even out her breathing. Those same breaths hung in thick clouds around her head, testament to winter’s continued annoyance at her being out and about. Her right hand hung loosely at her side, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight that cut in through the splintered wall of the barn; her left fiddling with the deck of cards tucked in her coat. 

The creaking of the doors was the only indication that she was no longer alone.

“You’ve got me separated,” she called to the empty space ahead of her, forcing confidence she didn’t feel into her tone, “now what do you want?”

“ _Very perceptive of you, comharba,_ ” a voice rasped out from behind her. It skated along her eardrums, equal parts rasping susurration and oak-deep demand. “ _But I was also assured of your intellect, and I fail to see such in your willingness to meet me here alone._ ”

So he  _ was  _ keyed to her scent and her scent alone. At least that part of the plan was going well. Even if it did raise more questions than it answered. She turned to face it, to complete the illusion, and she wished she hadn’t.

“ _ What do I want? _ ” it asked, voice mocking, “ _ Why, I can’t recall the last time someone asked me that question…” _

It stalked back and forth just ahead of the double doors, pointedly leaving her with no answer. Its body… God, how would you even explain  _ that _ ? It was tall, that much she’d seen before, but here in the barn, where the ceiling reached a good twenty-something feet up, its horns were well above the halfway point. And yet, each limb seemed to move in two parts. As if the half to either side of each joint moved independently of the rest of the body.

The result was a sound not so different from the forest at night; a comparison that made her nauseous for how many times she’d walked through it convinced the most she had to worry about was  _ animals _ . 

And all the while, that head stayed locked firmly on her. Rotating about its axis like an owl’s, eyes fixed on her own, green fire meeting brown that glinted so faintly in the limited light. She’d faced worse in the Isles, but seeing this thing here was somehow an entirely different sort of fear. There, terrors like these were a dime a dozen. Here, this thing’s power was absolute, and everything but her seemed keenly aware of that fact. 

This time in the night, even in the overtures of winter, there should have been sounds. Owls, rodents, coyotes even. Hisses, and hoots, and growls, and a million other noises that backed the subtle melody of the season. Winter wasn’t silent after all, just quiet, but this thing? It carried the silence of the grave with it wherever it went.

“What’s that you just called me?” Luz asked, morbid curiosity and the need to delay bearing it past her lips in equal measure. 

_ “You dare to claim such power and not even speak the tongue of your forebears? How very disappointing.” _

“ _ Soy de República Dominicana, idiota, _ ” Luz responded in kind, letting her anger win out. It would respond better to that than the utter terror she’d locked down for the time being. The last thing she wanted to do was give it an excuse to pounce before-

Light glinted between two of the boards.

Luz’s face split into a broad grin, and the hidebehind  _ recoiled  _ at the sight of it. Expression turning positively feral, she brought a hand up to her eyes as she reached out, pulling, drawing at the glyphs hidden in the shadowed corners of the barn. The hardest part about the whole thing had been keeping up her sixth. Forcing herself to confront the wrongness, the  _ silence _ that emanated from it. Disrupting the music she’d always heard, even if it had been faint.

The interesting thing about the sixth, though, is that she recalled it didn’t seem to regard distance as much of an obstacle to activating her glyphs. Each may as well have been under her hand, and as she pressed her will into twelve distinct points around her, the barn flooded with light.

Even with her arm over her eyes, her vision went blank. The interior suddenly incandescent, lit up as if it were in broad daylight for the briefest of moments. The sound the demon made, well, she’d never forget it. Keeping her sixth up through it would make sure of that. Half baleful scream, half creaking tree at the apex of its fall, it ripped at her ears and soul in equal measure. The world faded to a point, and as she reckoned with just how weak her body felt, how much her limbs felt like they were  _ burning _ , one thought crossed her mind.

_ This was dad’s part. Why hadn’t he- _

And that’s when he drove the truck through the wall.

Undoubtedly, the hidebehind had faced many threats and opponents in its day, but it was an outsider here, and humanity had gone and picked up a few tricks since the days when it was free to pick off woodsmen and wanderers alike with impunity.

So when all of just under 4,000 pounds of fiberglass, plastic, and (most importantly) steel slammed into the half-blinded creature at a smooth forty miles an hour, it folded and cracked like the glorified tree trunk it was. Beneath what was audible, she was keenly aware of a second sensation, a deep, instinctual sort of  _ snap _ ; like all the stored tension in an elastic band suddenly tearing it violently apart. Despite her hazy state, past the realization that something had gone  _ wrong  _ when she’d called on her magic, she couldn’t help the fierce grin that returned to her face.

_ Now if she could just pull enough magic together for a glyph to finish it off. _

Of course, her dad seemed to have his own idea of how to handle things.

His door clicked open, a second click indicating he’d stepped down and out of the cabin. Part of her desperately wanted to call out to him, to let him know that the thing wasn’t dead yet, but the words got caught up at the immobile wad of meat that had replaced her tongue. Instead, she turned her head just enough to see him steadily raise something in his hands at the hidebehind, its spindly form weakly attempting to pull itself upright. One hand drew back slightly over the other, producing the third and final click. Sharper than the last two, more final. Just barely, she could make out his voice, distant and garbled, asking her to “cover her ears,  _ mija _ ” before thunder ripped through the barn.

Once, twice, three times. The shots took the demon at the dead center of its form, each taking a good portion of its dark mass with it. Smoke poured from the wounds, thick and cloying, and where the essence of it hit the ancient wall behind it, that same smoke curled and billowed from sickly green flames that burst into life at the point of impact. 

The hidebehind itself crumpled to the ground, one arm entirely gone, the other with barely enough strength to keep it upright. Its legs lay limp and unmoving, slowly melting into a thick, black tar-like substance.

“ _ There will be others _ ,” it rasped, the cutting edge gone from its voice. Defeat painted its tone, shameful and clear.

“ _ Diles quién te envió _ ,” her dad responded, tone even, punctuating the statement with a final shot through the creature’s horned head that took the rest of its essence with it.

As what was left of the creature splattered the back wall, the flames burst along it in earnest, slowly burning away the unearthly tar and shifting gradually in hue from green to a more mundane blend of oranges, yellows, and reds. They cast the room into stark relief, shadows dancing about the edges and corners. For a brief moment, Luz thought they were surrounded, but as her mind began to clear, her panic died down with it. That intense sensation of being watched that she hadn’t even realized had come with the creature whose remains were now reduced to so much smoke.

Her eyes instead flashed to the man at the center of the barn. The man who still stood there, one arm limp at his side, the other holding the gun in his hand ever so slightly at the ready. He shook his head, as if coming to, and turned to face her, eyes suddenly wide with worry. The distance between them vanished in fewer steps than should’ve been possible, and he was kneeling beside her, the gun set off to the side, though still just within reach.

“ _ Mija _ , are you alright, did it catch you?” 

_ His voice, panicked. Eyes wide. Breathing shallow. All of it undercut by this singular intensity of purpose that kept him firmly anchored to the moment. _

“I’m fine  _ papá. ¿Por qué tienes una maldita pistola? _ ”

“Language,  _ mija _ ,” he chuckled nervously, pulling her off of the ground and close to his chest. She’d expected him to be trembling, but his body was perfectly still. The world shifted dangerously under her, and she slumped further into his arms, but her senses were slowly resolving back into focus.

“I think I may have overdone it a bit with the glyphs,” she admitted, earning another chuckle from him.

“You think so?”

They both jumped as part of the hayloft collapsed behind them, an immediate reminder that they were very much in an ancient building that was actively on fire. Luz tried and failed to get to her feet on her own, instead finding herself unceremoniously scooped up and hustled into the passenger seat of the truck. He joined her a moment after, shifting the gear into reverse before surreptitiously crossing himself and gunning the truck back out of the burning building. 

Sure enough, the moment it lost any real support, the side he’d driven through collapsed in on itself, a final burst of green flame shooting up from the pyre before it was consumed by nature’s long-delayed judgment.

Winter’s soldiers sputtered in protest against the flames as they drifted down against the blaze, but they were nothing to their fair-weather cousins. The barn would burn until there was nothing left to be burned, and Luz whispered a quiet farewell to the property’s last holdout. Feeling had finally worked its way back into her hands and feet, though they still felt tender and hot to the touch. Yet another question that would need an answer when she got back to the Isles. It was getting to be quite a list.

“You deal with stuff like that often?” her dad whispered from beside her. The warmth was gone, the intensity too. Now he just sounded empty, deflated.

_ Worried. _

“Not as often as I used to,” she admitted. He deserved the truth at least. “Eda’s been training me for this sort of thing ever since I got back.”

“She’s doing well. I’ve known trained soldiers that cracked under less stress.”

“Thank you?” Luz asked, unsure about the tone of his voice.

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he confirmed, “just an acknowledgment of fact.”

Silence billowed up between them in lockstep with the smoke that rose off the pyre before them. Even in the cabin, she felt the heat on her face, though whether that was from the amount of tinder or another, less natural fuel was anyone’s guess.

“Your mom’s going to ask why my truck has a dent in it the size of a tree trunk; why we both smell like smoke.” It was a statement, another acknowledgment of fact.

“For sure,” Luz agreed, dreading the moment.

“You’re not going to say a word to her,” he ordered, cutting off her protests with a gesture. “I’m not saying that we lie to her. Just let me tell her. I brought you out here, and you were my responsibility.”

“It doesn’t mean you should take the fall for me,” Luz protested.

“Take the fall for what, exactly?” he asked, humorless laughter bubbling past his lips, “The demon that followed you from the other side of the fence? Coming up with an idea that saved not only our lives but the lives of other people as well?” He stared out at the blaze before them one last time before nodding, shifting the gear and pulling off to cut across the field. “No,  _ mija _ , you’ve got nothing to apologize for, but if you were the one to talk to her, that’s exactly what you’d start doing, and that’s the last thing we need. Let me handle this one.”

Begrudgingly, she had to admit that he had a point. It was just his tone that made it difficult. His body language. She could never read him when he got like this. Thankfully, it didn’t happen often, but when it did, she saw yet another side of him. 

_ The one that had left. _

“We still need to talk about the gun,” she whispered, forcing the words past her lips. He’d placed it back in the glove box when he’d set her in the seat, but not before pulling off a series of motions that dropped a little brass cylinder to the ground in front of her. It still sat there, rolling back and forth, drawing her eye.

“I’m licensed and permitted to carry one. It’s completely legal.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and she watched as his shoulders squared off a little. The barest hint of a nod and she knew he’d heard her.

_ And that would have to do. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by some of my lovely commenters, as well as a few of my fellow writers, who (thankfully) pointed out to me that I had a fun angle that I hadn't originally intended to follow up on. After writing it, I can honestly say I'm glad I did. Thanks for reading!


	21. Revelaciones

Christmas in the Noceda household had always been an elaborate affair. Mom was far from religious, but she’d gone out of her way to ensure that the two of them kept the spirit of the season alive. Which is why, after the Christmas Eve festivities died down (including the most intense game of Scrabble Luz had ever seen), she was more than ready for her mom’s usual “get up the stairs, Santa can’t come if you’re down here” routine.

It took her a few minutes to talk Amity down after that one. Apparently, Santa had a very different set of responsibilities as far as the Isles were concerned. Something about leading the Hunt, which was kind of like “the hunt,” except she’d put that emphasis on the “h” that let Luz know it was one of those capital-letter things that had, like, a million and one meanings that no one ever told her anything about. She’d looked like she was ready to defend the house from an army, which was sweet, but also totally unnecessary. At least, she hoped it was. Now that she knew about magic, would Santa-

_ And she was trying to distract herself. _

Because Amity was doing that thing again. The same thing she’d been doing ever since Luz and her dad had rolled up to the house with an undeniable, six-inch-wide dent in the bumper, singed clothes, and the distinctive smell of smoke clinging to them. Her mom’s fury had been downright  _ terrifying _ , curbed only by a quick intervention from her dad and a (very quiet, very tense) conversation in the kitchen.

Amity, on the other hand, had just wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight enough that Luz was pretty sure if she hadn’t cracked a rib before, it was well on its way. It was great for the moment, but then she’d gotten all tense and pulled away, this unreadable expression on her face. And Luz, the hopeless fool that she was, tried to nudge the Bond ever so slightly, causing Amity to recoil like she’d slapped her.

Which led to, in her opinion, possibly the tensest, most awkward dinner she’d ever been a part of. Just a table piled high with food, her mother insisting that Amity had been instrumental in making half of it, which, again, would have been wonderful, were it not for the fact that the witch in question wouldn’t even meet her eye. Her dad, bless him, tried to make conversation, but every time he opened his mouth her mom would fix him with this glare that silenced him in an instant.

When he was finally  _ permitted  _ to leave, all he had for her was a nudge on the shoulder and a long-suffering glance. Both of which were absolutely useless against the palpable aura of concern and anger in equal measure that had slowly built up around Amity over the course of the night. Which was just far too close to her mother for it to be a coincidence. One Camila Noceda was more than enough for any person to handle. Two? God, she really knew how to pick them.

Which found them upstairs while her mom put the finishing touches on gifts and decorations, having hardly spoken a word to one another since then. Yet, despite that, the fact that Amity seemed unwilling to let go of her the entire time told her that the witch couldn’t seem to decide if she was more angry or concerned.

The witch herself was currently more on the “concern” end of the spectrum, judging by the way her arms were wrapped around Luz’s chest, her head buried in her shoulder. Again, she felt conflicted. Amity cuddling with her? Score. Amity wrapped so tightly around her it felt desperate? Not so great.

She ran over the options in her head. Reassurance typically led to her getting this glassy look in her eyes and this trembling in her hands. Cuddling was great, but there was the ever present risk of the squeezing death spiral that had almost spelled a very pleasant end for her the other night. Could be that she needed a new approach. Maybe…

“You and mom really seem to be getting along,” Luz choked out past the stranglehold on her ribs.

“We have similar interests,” Amity replied, voice muffled by Luz’s shoulder. The way she said it making it clear that was all she had to say on the matter.

_ Alright, scratch that _ .

“You know,” Luz began, wincing at the way Amity somehow managed to squeeze even tighter at the sound, “I usually watch a few movies until I’m tired enough to fall asleep. Maybe we could try that?”

Amity seemed to consider it for a moment. Her arms loosening around her torso and (thankfully) allowing a bit of air to rush back into her long-suffering lungs. The witch pulled away, amber locking on brown as the two regarded each other. 

“How are you just okay with it?” She finally asked, her voice accusatory. Luz waffled for a moment before seizing on what, exactly, she was supposedly okay with.

“Who said I was okay with it?”

“Well, you certainly aren’t acting like it left much of an impact on you,” Amity replied, the heat in her tone belied by the whisper she delivered it in. “Luz, you could have  _ died _ , and I wouldn’t have even known what happened to you. I would’ve just been sitting there, with your mom,” she paused, unable to find her voice for a moment, “just… waiting for you to come through the door when you never would.”

Tears began to stream down her face, cutting lines along her cheeks that gleamed silver in the moonlight. Each one that fell hit her heart like a freight train, leaving only this dull aching sensation where there’d previously been anger.

_ Reassurance it was. _

“But I didn’t,” Luz whispered in kind, wrapping the witch’s hands between her own, “Between the two of us, we managed just fine.”

“Only because you’re suddenly able to use your glyphs here.”

“I’m sure we would have figured something out without them.”

“What exactly?” Amity asked, voice raising just enough that she winced at the sound of it. “What would you have done differently?”

“Well all I did was blind it,” Luz answered, realizing the moment she said it that she was backpedaling, “He was the one who rammed his car into it and…”

She cut off. In her mind, lightning struck three times, the thunder that followed echoing through the creaking timbers of a barn standing past its time.

“And what?” Amity asked, drawing back from her, suspicion cutting across her features.

“It’s nothing, nevermind,” Luz assured her, forging ahead fully aware of the fact that she hadn’t even convinced herself, “Either way, we could have handled it with or without glyphs. Just would have been a bit more difficult.”

“By difficult do you mean nearly impossible and almost certainly fatal?”

“It’s pretty clear you already think you know what the answer to that question is.”

“Maybe because I have a pretty good idea of how much of a threat a hidebehind is,” Amity hissed, eyes flashing dangerously, “And that’s practically the least of the things she could-”

“Wait, she?” Luz interrupted, caught off guard, “What do you mean by she?”

“It’s nothing, nevermind,” Amity replied, the tone of it achingly familiar. Concern fled, anger taking its place.

“Don’t do that to me,” Luz asserted, wincing in sympathy with Amity’s own.

“Do what?”

“Use my words against me. I would never do that to you, and I know you would never do it to me if you were thinking straight.”

“If I were thinking straight?” Amity echoed, voice raising even further, “Titan, Luz, sorry I’m not thinking straight. It’s not like I’m recovering from a malignant hex or anything.”

“You know that’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean, Luz? What was so important that you had to leave anyway? When you already knew that there was a potential for something to be out there, waiting for an opportunity to strike?”

“There was no way I could have known something would come after me,” Luz countered, hands finding nothing but empty air as she attempted to set them on the witch’s withdrawing shoulders, “and besides, what I had to do was important.”

“What could possibly be so important?”

“Gee, I don’t know Amity, maybe spending time with my dad that I haven’t seen for over two months? Who I barely knew beforehand?” But that wasn’t fair, was it? Didn’t she deserve the full truth? “Or maybe,” she whispered, admission plain in her tone, “it was because I was agonizing over having not gotten you a present before everything happened.”

“Getting me a… Luz, that’s not worth your safety.” The incredulity in her tone hit her hard, but it was what came after that set her blood  _ boiling _ . 

“ _ I’m  _ not worth your safety.”

It was a whisper, barely a breath, but it raced across her mind and ignited every synapse in its path. Anger burned hot and bright in her chest, and when words finally burst past her lips, she had tossed any sense of control to the wind with them.

“Don't,” Luz practically growled, “Don't you dare say that about yourself ever again.”

“It’s true,” Amity replied, unable even to meet her eyes.

“It is the furthest thing from true,” Luz challenged, reaching forward and pulling the witch towards her, “and if you really care about me, you won’t just never say it in front of me; you’ll never say it at all.”

Amity’s eyes met hers then, fear giving way to something else. Something infuriatingly difficult to read past eyes that so easily coached themselves into a glassy, unfeeling sheen. The form that refused to give any indication of the turmoil within, any hint as to what might be hammering at her chest or squeezing her lungs. It was an act, and one she’d seen before.

_ But she’d never used it on her. _

“Luz, I-”

“And every time you think it,” the human cut off, knowing all too well that the next words out of her mouth would be an excuse, a dismissal, “ I want you to tell me, you understand? Amity,” she demanded, “look at me. Do you understand?”

Somehow, Luz kept her voice calm, collected even, though something in her wanted to shake the witch and  _ make  _ her understand. Finally though, Amity looked up, the barest hint of a nod all Luz needed to continue.

“I’m going to say something,” she stated, each word carefully selected, “and I need you to stay with me. Can you do that? Can you promise me that?”

“I’ll do my best,” she responded, and it would have to do. Luz took a breath, holding it in her lungs, and using the moment it gave her to try and still her thoughts. But when had her thoughts ever been still? Letting it go, she looked back into Amity’s eyes, and she let the dam break.

“You  _ deserve  _ love,” she began, pouring every ounce of sincerity her heart could hold into it. “Everyone does, but damn it Amity,  _ you  _ deserve it. And I know that’s a lot easier for me to say than it is for you to believe, but that doesn’t make it any less true. You are a good person,” she asserted, squeezing her hands between her own. 

“You’re kind, and brave, and smart, and so dedicated to making sure everyone else is okay, but you need to make sure you’re okay too. I saw it there,” she whispered, “after I came back; there was this light in your eyes and you just seemed so happy. Gus and Willow, they were so glad to see that change in you. It even looked like you were doing better with Ed and Em too, like you were really close with Lilith. And then that all changed.”

With each word, her throat seemed heavier, her eyes stinging just a little bit more. Because as irrational as it was, as much as she knew it was just that old specter looming in the background, Luz couldn’t help but tie the change to the one thing that differed between before and after.

“I know there are things you’ve been through that I’ll just never understand,” she forced out, “I know that I won’t be able to fix you, because you don’t need to be fixed. And sure,” she admitted, grinning despite the tears that collected at the corners of her eyes, “maybe you’ve done things that aren’t great. But the people you did them to have forgiven you, Amity, because they know you have a good heart. They see the same things I do.” 

What did she see? Beyond the surface, beyond the kindness that lingered just beneath. Why did seeing Amity in pain hurt her so much than her own ever would? Why did her heart  _ burn  _ just at the sight of the tears that streaked down her face? Bringing a finger to her cheek, Luz wiped one of them away, but the witch didn’t lean into the touch like she always did. She wanted to, that much she could tell, but there was something that held her back, and Luz pulled her hand away, choosing instead to tangle it into the blanket beneath them.

“You’re my best friend, Amity,” she whispered, her own turn to be unable to meet the witch’s eyes, “but I think we both know there’s more to it than that. We’re Bonded, and I’ve read enough and have enough sense to know that has to mean  _ something _ .” She forced herself to meet Amity’s eyes, starting at how much closer she seemed. “But I can’t help you if you keep me out.”

“I’m not saying you have to reopen it,” she amended, noticing the way Amity drew back at the request, “Please, don’t think I am. I’m just asking you to talk to me, to let me know what you’re feeling. I can’t stand being on the outside looking in. Please, Amity, talk to me.”

There was this moment. This terrible, fragile moment, where Luz was certain that she was going to shut down completely. She’d done it plenty of times before, just tuning out the world. Once she was there, bringing her back was impossible. She prepared for a long night of silence, only for Amity to break it.

“Hexes are deliberate magical acts,” she monotoned, her voice more quotation than original thought, “They’re strongest when the one casting them has a connection to the person they’re trying to harm. Even more so when they have a focus with a strong tie to the victim.” She paused, as if standing at a threshold, uncertain of whether she would enter or not. But then she met her gaze, and something in her held fast. “My mother had both,” she whispered, “and she used them to weave a piece of magic that almost killed me.”

The world fell away around her at the admission, at the hollowness in Amity’s voice as she made it. So much empty space behind those words, and yet no room for pain, for the hurt that ought to have occupied it.

“Amity, I didn’t know,” she assured, hating herself for how shallow it sounded.

“How could you have?” she asked in turn, a faint, haunted smile creeping across her face, “I didn’t tell you. How could I? Hey Luz, by the way, you know my mom? The one I haven’t spoken to in almost two years? Yeah, she decided to send me a present for Yule. How great!” she exclaimed, voice mocking, tears framing her smile in a twisted tableau of genuine excitement, “Except for the fact that she sent me the one thing that would guarantee a panic attack. And hey, let’s just throw in the fact that there may or may not be some kind of demon attached to me still.”

“There is?” Luz asked her, suddenly concerned, reaching without thinking for her sixth. Right as she began to pull on the magic for it, as her hands began to burn in response, Amity’s settled on her forearms.

“There has been for a while,” she admitted, running a hand along her arm “but it’s not the sort of thing you can just get rid of. She’s an Oracle by craft Luz, but a lot falls under that banner. My mother can’t see into the future,” she stated, eyes locked on some distant point, “but she is aware of  _ every  _ single thing that happens in the present around her. She doesn’t  _ miss  _ anything. Every flaw, every mistake, every misstep; she knew about it before I even did. I used to think that she never disciplined me, that she just spoke and I knew what to do. But now I’m not so sure.”

Her thumbs rubbed slow circles on Luz’s forearms, grazing over the faint scars that ran across her arms. The longest a parting gift from a certain dragon. Along her left, three narrow crescents left behind by the scything claws of a hellhound. Each a reminder of a close brush with death. None of them had left her as cold as she felt now.

“She’s powerful, Luz. And she’s the only one that would have been able to hurt me like that. So what makes you think, if she knew how much I cared about you, that she wouldn’t do something to you to get at me?”

“Or maybe she’s still caught up on the Emperor,” she amended, voice tending back towards the frantic pace of before, “She practically  _ worshipped  _ him. Maybe she just wanted you dead for her own sake, and  _ I  _ was just a way of getting to  _ you _ .”

“There’s no way to know if that’s the truth-”

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Amity interjected, “We  _ don’t _ know. We’ll probably never know. She’s smart, and she’s clever, and she’s cunning, and she is cruel. You met the me that she made, and that was because I was useful to her. I don’t even want to think about what she’d do if she wanted to get rid of either of us. I- I can’t lose you.”

And then she closed the distance between them, no longer able to meet her eyes. Just wrapping her arms around her in this desperate need to be close. Amity clung to her, but it was weak and uncertain. As if she couldn’t make up her mind on whether she really wanted to hold her or if she’d be better off walking out the door. Bond or not, Luz realized what was really hiding beneath the surface.

_ She was looking for a reason. _

“Then don’t let go,” Luz murmured, her voice only meant for her, “Stay with me, wherever we go. Let’s keep each other safe.”

“I don’t want you to have to-”

“Well, what about what I want?” Luz asked, voice warm and firm. Desperate to draw her in, to make her realize just how serious she was.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s clear that you think you’re doing all of this for me,” Luz explained, “but I never  _ asked  _ you to. But I  _ am  _ asking you now; don’t run away from me. Don’t give up on what we have. It means more to me than I can explain, than I can put in words.”

“There’s just too much going on-” Amity began.

“Then let’s not worry about it right now,” Luz interjected, “Please, just stay with me. We don’t have to talk about anything unless you want to.”

“I don’t,” Amity whispered, and Luz pretended to believe her.

“That’s fine,” she said instead, hoping she’d extend the same courtesy.

So Luz pulled both of them down, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and drawing her close, the other pulling a blanket over both of them. All of the tension that had laid hidden beneath Amity’s carefully composed surface melted away, and the witch curled against her, so very small. Not fragile though, no, she was stronger than that.

“ _ Sabes que eres mi corazón, ¿verdad? _ ” Luz asked in a hushed whisper, feeling exhaustion overtake her.

“I have no idea what you just said,” Amity responded, the faintest hint of a tease to her tone.

_ But the way she curled into the embrace told a different story. _

~---~

Luz was eleven years old when her mom let it slip that she was the one responsible for the presents under the tree.

She didn’t do it intentionally, of course. She’d just finished a long shift at the hospital - the sort of Christmas Eve pileup that happened all too often thanks to what she called “bad decisions and inebriated minds” - and had staggered into the living room just as the sun came up. Luz’s babysitter, an absolutely ancient woman she’d only ever been allowed to refer to as “Mrs. Hadad,” was sound asleep, a young Luz eagerly awaiting her mother’s from the bottom of the stairs.

She watched, patiently and dead silent, as her mother shuffled through the door, the picture of exhaustion. As she quietly set each of the items in her pockets on the small table by the door. And then, as she looked around, chuckling at Mrs. Hadad but missing Luz entirely, she did it.

_ She set another gift atop the usual trio. _

Brightly colored and meticulously wrapped, it held an arctic address and the promise of magic. It had also decidedly  _ not  _ been dropped off by a jolly old man in a red suit.

Something must have alerted her mom, some brush of cloth or little exhale, because her eyes flashed to her in an instant. They stood there, locked in the quiet understanding that a door had just closed between them. She still remembered the way guilt had flared in her chest as tears sprung up in her mom’s eyes. At the way her shoulders sagged in quiet acceptance and disappointment. And then, the warm embrace that immediately followed as she ran and threw herself into her arms. 

It was that same warmth that wrapped around her heart now, as she sat in the same spot that had so often been Mrs. Hadad’s post during many an unexpected night shift. It helped that she wasn’t alone in the chair, Amity not having left her side since the night before, though decidedly more warm about the proximity. The pointed look her mom gave her at the seating arrangement had melted away the moment she saw the way she was as much clinging to her as anything else, the lingering tension that still hung between them.

What caught Luz’s attention most was the fact that there were eight presents under the tree, rather than the usual five. She hadn’t expected her mom to bring Amity in on the tradition, but then again, she’d always made sure to have a gift ready “just in case someone dropped by,” so she supposed it wasn’t  _ that  _ much of a surprise. 

“I just feel bad for not having gotten you anything,” Amity said, pulling Luz out of her nostalgia.

“Nonsense,  _ mija _ ,” Camila responded, waving off the concern, “when would you have had the opportunity to leave?”

_ That  _ one was accompanied by another look in Luz’s direction, which she tactfully ignored by looking literally anywhere else. Still, it was good to know that she wasn’t out of the doghouse with  _ her  _ either.

“Still, you got me three,” Amity asserted, refusing to drop it, “and I got you nothing.”

“It’s not a competition, Amity,” Camila assured her, waving off her concerns, “Besides, now that this one isn’t here eating me out of hearth and home I’ve got a bit extra to my name. It’s no problem, really.”

God, was she getting special treatment. Try to catch  _ her  _ disagreeing with her mom that many times in a row. You wouldn’t, because she’d be halfway across the Caribbean, seeking refuge with her  _ Tío _ , desperately hoping that she hadn’t been followed. Still, Amity was a guest, so she got special treatment, but that only went so far. And her mom was starting to get that tone in her voice...

“Besides,” Luz cut in, coming to her rescue, “we never get anything crazy for each other as it is.”

“Crazy?”

“You know, like some people get all these expensive gifts for Christmas? This one guy I knew, his parents used to get him thirty presents every  _ year _ . He didn’t even know what half of them were!”

“You mean the Force boy?” Camila asked as she made her way towards the tree, surprising Luz.

“Yeah,” she replied, “how’d you know?”

“You mentioned it more than once,” Camila responded, stacking the presents in her hands, “He’s in jail now,” she added simply, as if it were the least interesting thing in the world.

“Really?” Luz asked, incredulous, “What for?”

“Burglary and armed robbery.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Camila replied, popping the ‘p’ as she set a trio of presents in front of each of them. “It was a pretty big deal a couple weeks ago.”

“Huh, little ironies I guess.”

Luz trailed off, lost in the (admittedly) pleasant thought of one of her bullies doing hard time, only to find that the other two people in the room were staring at her. Amity presumably for the usual reasons. Her mom’s stare, on the other hand, held this sort of expectation to it. Was she waiting for her to do something?

_ Oh, right, Christmas. _

“Right,” Luz exclaimed, making Amity jump, “so we just have our own tradition. Every year, I get three gifts. Something I want, something I need, and something to read.” With each indication, she pointed to one of the three packages in front of her before sweeping her hand across the similar pile in front of Amity, “And now, you’re a part of that too!”

“What about you?” Amity asked, the question directed towards Camila. The woman just smiled in turn as she settled into her chair, eyes firmly fixed on the pair of them.

“I have all the gifts I could possibly want; a roof over my head, good food in my pantry, and a beautiful, healthy daughter to be proud of.”

“ _ ¡Mamá! _ ”

“ _ ¿Qué, no debería estar orgullosa de ti? _ ”

Luz’s cheeks pinked at the compliment, reducing whatever protest she might’ve lodged to a sort of grumbled gratitude.

“Still,” Amity cut in, “you didn’t have to-”

“Nonsense,” Camila interjected, the tone making it clear that  _ that _ was the final word on the matter, “And just for that, you’re opening the first gift.”

Amity  _ tried  _ to protest, but Luz knew all too well how that would go. Sure enough, Camila allowed for no such thing, and Amity was soon carefully extracting her gift from its wrappings. Luz couldn’t help but laugh at the brightly colored box labeled with  _ Scrabble  _ that fell into her lap. It was even more adorable when Amity was entirely unable to hide her genuine excitement at having received it.

Surprise flared as Luz caught a glimpse at her face, at the tears that clung just at the corners of her eyes as she read something in the cover of the little player’s dictionary that her mom had included. Luz reached out to reassure her, but Amity turned to her at the last moment, head cocked, and the easy smile that spread across her face killed whatever assurance she might have had, replaced only by a similar smile across her own.

“I would like to eventually get to lunch,  _ mija _ ,” mom called across the room, making Luz blush.

“Right, sorry, let me just…”

Luz ripped away the packaging in one motion, laughing at the way Amity winced when she did. Her own wrapping paper laid carefully folded next to her. But it was Christmas, and she had a fairly good idea of what lay hidden beneath. There was no time for being careful!

Her guess proved to be right, but that only made her more excited. Turning the box over in her hands, and setting the second part of it aside, Luz pulled Amity in close to look at it. 

“What’s a ‘D-V-D’ Player?” the witch asked, carefully sounding out the words emblazoned on the box.

“You watched  _ Field of Deadly Fates _ , right?”

“Yeah, but on a beguiled crystal ball.”

“Well, this is sort of like that,” Luz admitted, “whatever that is, except it can play any movie you want it to.”

“All of them?” Amity asked, eyes wide.

“Well, any movie you can put on one of these disks,” Luz replied, indicating the stack of blank DVD’s that had come with it.

“And where do the movies come from.”

“Pirating, usually,” Camila quipped from her end of the room, a conspiratorial wink serving only to confuse the witch even further.

“You buy movies from pirates?” 

Luz met her mom’s eyes, and they tried  _ really  _ hard, but neither of them were able to hold it in, and as they burst into laughter together, Amity couldn’t hide the sheepish grin that worked its way across her face.

“That was just an expression, wasn’t it?”

“Now you’re catching on,” Luz said, still laughing, “No, we don’t buy them from pirates. I’ll explain it to you later, but the short version of it is we can watch any sort of movies we want. I just need to find them first. I’ve already got a few of my favorites up in my room,” she added, trailing off as she tried to recall where she put them. “Prepare to be exposed to entertainment the likes of which you’ve never seen before!”

Mom laughed again, though this time she wasn’t sure at what. Then she saw the look in her eye, and it immediately reminded her of the same one Eda got when she...

“Oh, gross mamá,” Luz protested, “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“I didn’t say a thing,  _ mija _ .”

“Am I missing something?” Amity asked, genuinely curious.

“Nope,” Luz replied, not even bothering to give the idea the time of day, “How about we open the next present?”

The next present turned out to be the same thing for both of them - a pair of shawls that Luz could tell from the moment she saw the pattern were knitted by her mom herself. She’d picked up a few things over the years (she could sew a mean stitch herself), but she was nowhere near her level, and the little details that she’d managed to work into the brightly colored mix of blues, purples, and pinks were incredible. 

Amity’s face alternated between the two shades of pink in her own, but the oranges and white beside them really looked nice on her. It took Luz’s brain approximately three second to put two and two together, but when she did, she couldn’t but start laughing all over again.

“Really?” she asked, turning to find her mom chuckling silently in her chair.

“What?” Camila asked, feigning innocence, “I more than met my goal for the holiday season; I could spare a few.”

“Aren’t you making a few assumptions,  _ mamá _ ?”

“Luz, please,” she responded, sparing a glance for Amity, who was still enraptured by the garment in her lap, “I mean, come on.”

They both burst into laughter again at that one, Amity finally seeming to realize that it may have something to do with her. 

“What is it,” she asked, “what am I missing here?”

“It’s nothing,  _ brujita _ ,” Luz assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “just an old joke.”

Amity huffed in response, fixing her with a pleading look that  _ almost  _ made her crack, but she thankfully had an ace up her sleeve.

“Here,  _ mamá _ ,” she called behind her, turning away from the puppy-dog eyes, “you should open your gift now.”

“You know I always open mine last,” Camila teased her, but she was already pulling the package into her lap. Luz squeezed Amity’s shoulder as she pushed herself up, bounding across the room to sit on the arm of her mom’s chair. She must have been in a magnanimous mood, because she didn’t even call her on what would normally earn her a lecture. Instead, she focused on  _ carefully  _ peeling away the wrapping paper.

“ _ Mamá _ ,” Luz whined, “ _ me estás matando. _ ”

“ _ Paciencia, niña, paciencia, _ ” she teased in turn, grinning up at her as she finally ripped the wrapping paper free. She turned down to look at the present, a grin on her face and a joke at her lips, and Luz felt triumph drive home as it died in her throat.

Sitting in her lap was a photo album, the words “Summer, 2017” written across it in glittery letters. Luz heard her draw in a breath as she opened the album to the first page, revealing a poorly angled photo of Luz, Eda, and King.  _ Luz  _ was grinning at the camera, but both of them were looking in entirely the wrong directions. They got  _ much  _ better as she flipped through the pages, each one showing off a different friend she’d made or place she’d visited. 

She’d had to leave the pictures behind when she’d made her impromptu trip back to the human realm, and with her phone having been (to put it lightly) utterly annihilated by a troll’s foot, it had left her with no actual proof that any of it existed other than her memories and some glyphs she’d found tucked in a side pocket. The books, lifelines that they were, had come later.

See, Luz knew that her mom still worried about everything that had happened that summer. Knew that she was still curious, though she would never ask, about what she’d  _ done  _ to walk out of the forest with haunted eyes and shaking hands. As far as  _ she  _ knew, Luz’s time in the Isles may as well have been one harrowing experience after another. But these pictures, these memories, as happy as they made her, she knew they could do something else for her mom. 

And sure, maybe she hadn’t met Amity under the best circumstances, and Eda was a bit of a handful at the best of times, but between them, and between the pictures, Luz could see a little bit of something leave her mom. Shoulders loosening ever so slightly, eyes watering just enough for a single tear to trace a line across her cheek that she dammed with a finger.

Then she looked up at her, and Luz just sort of broke. Her arms were around her mom’s shoulders before she was aware of the distance closing between them. There were no words, no need for them even. But something between them broke, and reforged, and held fast, and Luz knew, whatever concerns her mom may still have about her choice to live in (admittedly) a dangerous place like the Isles, she at least knew that she had people that cared about her; a lot of them, actually. That she was happy there.

_ That it was where she was meant to be. _

They both looked up at this odd noise from the other side of the room, this sort of strangled animal impression that Luz realized was Amity trying (and failing) to not cry at the sight of them. 

“Aww,  _ brujita _ ,” Luz teased, “just come over here.”

“I don’t want to-” 

“ _ Disparates _ ,” Camila contended, cutting her off, “ _ Ven aqui, mija _ .”

She closed the distance in a moment, wrapping her arms around both of them with a contented sigh that set all three of them giggling. Luz nudged the witch’s hip with her own, delighting in the little blush that bloomed across the tops of her ears.

“Alright, enough,” Camila exclaimed, lightly pushing them away, “this is why I wait until the end. You two still have gifts to open, so get to it.”

They complied, Amity a bit more reluctantly than Luz expected. As the witch settled back in the chair, Luz opted to sit at the foot of it, stretching her legs out as she rapped her knuckles against her knee. The color that pinked her cheeks was brilliant, and she chuckled again. Three for three; she was on a roll.

Once again, Amity carefully pulled the wrapping paper away from her gift, and once again Luz ripped hers off in a single fell swoop, the brightly colored paper powerless against her mighty grabber. The moment she saw the cover, she squealed in absolute joy, hefting the heavy book over her head like it was the item she needed to beat the dungeon and nearly braining the witch behind her in the process.

Amity was far more subdued, if not any less excited. Luz caught sight of the cover as the witch excitedly thanked her mom, and outwardly groaned.

“You finally found someone willing to read  _ that _ ?”

“I don’t make fun of your choices in books,” Camila replied, only slightly kidding.

“That’s because I pick fun books,” Luz countered, holding her gift close to her chest.

“ _ Guns, Germs, and Steel  _ is a critically acclaimed piece of literature that details the geographical and-”

“-environmental factors that shaped the modern world,” Luz finished, her sly grin faltering under the withering stare her mother gave her.

“Well I think it’s a wonderful gift,” Amity interjected, ignoring the tongue Luz stuck out in her direction, “It’s very difficult to find accurate sources on the human realm. I’m looking forward to reading it.”

“I’m certain that  _ you’ll  _ enjoy it, Amity,” Camila crooned, a pointed look tossed in her daughter’s direction. 

“Fine, fine, you two can be big history nerds together,” Luz exclaimed, knowing when she was beaten, “I’ll hold down the fort on fantasy and adventure.”

Amity snorted at that, and Luz got a positively evil idea once she realized that the witch was teasing her. She  _ was  _ going to wait until later, but there was no time like the present, right?

“Alright,” she called out, her voice sickly sweet, “last present.”

Amity gave her a confused look as she got up, but it diminished when Luz walked towards the last present under the tree. She grinned to herself. It wasn’t that she was trying to get back at her, really. She just wanted to see if she could go four for four on the blushes. The moment she turned back to the witch, package in hand, her expression turned to one of abject horror.

_ And Luz swooped in for the kill. _

~---~

Of course Luz had a present for her. Why wouldn’t she? Camila had been so sweet, so caring, but just firm enough that she’d have no way to wiggle out of it. Luz on the other hand, oh, she was enjoying it. Her only solace was that it wasn’t malicious, that she’d never hold it over her, that she’d gotten her a present and Amity hadn’t gotten her anything. That certainly didn’t make it any  _ better _ , but nothing short of divine intervention could achieve that now.

Because at that very moment, Luz was standing in front of her, that damned look on her face, and Amity couldn’t help but smile back. 

“You shouldn’t have,” she forced herself to say, already knowing the answer.

“I wanted to,” Luz replied simply, the look in her eyes telling Amity she realized exactly how much those three words meant to her.

So she took the box, holding it in her hands delicately; like the slightest motion would send its shattered pieces cascading it into her lap. Carefully, she pulled the first flap open, noting that Luz had absolutely  _ not  _ been the one who wrapped it. She made it approximately one-and-a-half more seconds before that look got the better of her; giving up on any sense of propriety she had left and ripping the rest of it free in a moment.

_ It was a jewelry box _ .

“This is a very nice box, Luz,” Amity replied, trying desperately to hide the smile in her voice, only to feel immediate guilt at the crestfallen look that crossed the human’s features. She let a bit of her smile break free, and that was a mistake, because Luz immediately met her tenfold.

“You’re terrible,” she teased, “just open the box already.”

“Oh, it opens?” Amity teased back, gently prying the lid off and catching sight of what laid within-

_ Oh. _

Resting against the cushioned bottom of the box was a bracelet. Not one of the gaudy things she’d been forced to wear at one function or another. Just a simple chain, two strands carefully interwoven with one another. Set at intervals along it were a trio of charms; a pen, an anchor, and a sunburst. Each of them rendered in painstaking detail, each made of various metals and precious stones. 

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, voice and hands reverent as she pulled it from the box. Luz’s hands slipped past her own (when had she knelt down?), placing the box to the side. Amity took heart in the fact that her hands seemed to be trembling just as much as hers were as she carefully took the ends of the bracelet and wrapped it around her wrist. It fit perfectly, resting just against the pulse that Luz ran a thumb over.

“You’re beautiful,” Luz whispered back, her hand never leaving Amity’s wrist. Their eyes met, and she felt something, tenuous and uncertain, reforming between them. She was getting closer, and Amity was letting her, the world falling away as the distance between them vanished. And then-

They both jumped as something pounded against the door. 

Three short thuds, each driving them further apart. Amity’s eyes cast frantically over the room, settling on Camila, who was slowly lowering the book she’d been holding oddly close to her face. The look on her face was sad, almost. No, that wasn’t it...

Luz moved before either of them, entirely unconcerned as she crossed the distance to the door and drew it open, revealing a thoroughly snow-caked Miguel standing in the doorway. 

“Sorry I’m late,  _ mija _ ,” he said to Luz, stepping into the room but not daring to step off of the doormat, “You wouldn’t believe it, but the snowplow drivers aren’t too big on doing their jobs on Christmas day!”

As he spoke, he passed an armful of packages to her, using his freed hands to slowly reveal the man under the veritable pile of garments. Amity had to admit, being a practitioner of it herself, the man was a master of avoiding the gaze of one specific person in a room. His form was  _ impeccable _ ; eyes never even straying in her particular direction, coat and scarves carefully folded in the least intrusive way possible.

“Pass those around,  _ mija _ ,” he said, still avoiding the rest of the room, “The names are on them.”

“Don’t you want to-”

“No,” Camila interrupted, answering for him, “Your father and I are going to have a conversation in the kitchen once he’s done tracking snow into the house.”

Miguel said something to Luz that Amity didn’t quite catch and she nodded, seizing the opportunity to hug him before she turned, crossing the distance between them and sitting down next to her in the chair. It took Amity a moment to realize that another package had been set in her lap, her attention too focused on Luz’s parents to notice. Camila strode into the kitchen, not even glancing behind her to see if he was following. As he passed them, Miguel affected this little bow, tossing a “ _ Señorita Blight _ ” her way as he vanished into the kitchen.

Voices drifted out of the kitchen, low and urgent, both in Spanish, though Amity had nowhere near enough a grasp on the language to decipher anything but the occasional word. Judging by the look on Luz’s face, it wasn’t exactly a pleasant conversation. After a moment of hesitation, she slipped a hand into hers, squeezing it to let the human know that she was there. The grateful smile she gave her didn’t quite reach her eyes.

It didn’t take them long to return, though Amity noted that they sat on opposite sides of the living room. Miguel reached out to Luz from where he sat on the couch beside them, scuffing her shoulder affectionately and earning a genuine smile from her. She spared a glance for Camila, expecting that scowl to still be there, only to find her smiling along. Though, admittedly, a bit more subdued than either of them.

Just like that. They were… happy. Maybe not about everything, but that didn’t seem to matter. Funny, how you can know you’re missing something, but never really feel its loss until it’s right in front of you.

The sound of someone clearing their throat drew her back to the moment, and Amity realized (thankfully) that no one’s attention was focused on her. Luz and her father were both occupied staring at Camila, who was looking skeptically back at Miguel, a wrapped parcel in her hands. Like her own, it was wrapped in brown paper rather than anything colorful, but each of them had been tied shut with an intricate knot, their names carefully written along the side in surprisingly elegant handwriting.

Still looking him dead in the eye, Camila grabbed a letter opener off the nearby table and cut the twine with a single motion. Miguel gulped, and Amity wasn’t sure whether to feel bad for him or just be downright impressed with her. She settled on a little bit of both.

Camila pulled the paper away to reveal some sort of creature carved entirely from wood. It looked vaguely like a smokestalker, but much smaller. Its claws were far less pronounced, its fangs not even visible, but it had that same regal, feline bearing that had haunted the tall tales of her early years. Something about it must have brought Camila more joy than it did Amity, because she clearly couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her face.

It would have been a sweet moment, what with her flashing Miguel a small, genuinely warm nod of appreciation, were it not for Luz practically  _ vibrating  _ next to her. Amity set a hand on her knee without thinking, stilling the piston pretending to be the human’s right leg, and the look Miguel gave her for that particular motion left her blushing fiercely. 

“Amity,” he began, at least doing her the decency of giving her a moment to move her hand away, “I see you’re wearing the bracelet already. I take it Luz couldn’t wait to give it to you?”

“She was giving it to her when you knocked,” Camila interjected pointedly, causing Miguel and Amity to wince in sync.

“Ah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “well, you might as well open that bundle then.”

“You-” Amity began.

“Didn’t have to,” he said, cutting her off, “but I wanted to.”

Not for the first time since she’d met him, Amity marveled at just how similar he and Luz were. The thought brought a smile to her face, and she used the opportunity to avoid saying anything to incriminate herself, instead focusing on carefully untying the knot in a few sure strokes.

“See, Cam,” Miguel called over to the other side of the room, “it wasn’t that hard to untie it.”

“ _ Llámame así y lo usaré contigo a continuación _ ,” she responded, her tone sickly sweet. Luz tensed beside her, and Amity was suddenly very glad she wasn’t even close to being proficient in the language yet.

The gift almost fell to the floor when she pulled the paper away, but she caught it at the last moment, years of Grudgby instincts kicking in. Resting in her open palm was a tiny wooden charm, exactly the right size to fit on her bracelet. Despite the fact that it was barely bigger than her thumbnail, there was enough detail worked into it that she could make out the shape of some kind of dragon-like creature, but with the wings of a moth. 

Luz whistled as she saw it, and Amity saw her look back at her father out of the corner of her eye.

“That’s a far cry from the centibear,” Luz teased, earning an embarrassed chuckle from him. Amity’s eyes flicked between them, realization dawning.

“Wait,” she asked him, “Did you carve this?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, “is there something wrong with it-”

“No,” Amity responded quickly, “This is incredible. Just remind me to come to you when I need a staff carved.”

“Happy to oblige,” he quipped back, a mischievous glint in his eye.

_ Similar indeed. _

“Alright,  _ mija _ ,” he called over, attention turning to Luz, “you’ve been patient, and I’m pretty sure if you don’t open it soon you’ll shake the chair to pieces.”

That was all the permission she seemed to need. Hefting the long, thin package onto her knees, Luz produced a tiny slip of paper from the wrapping paper Amity had been  _ intending  _ to save, touching it to the knot. With a flash, the twine burned away, Luz not even waiting to register the alarm of literally everyone else in the room before she tore the paper away. Her breath caught as it rolled into her lap, and Amity couldn’t blame her.

It was some kind of cudgel, from the look of it, about as long and thick around as her arm, made of scarlet wood and meticulously carved with intricate, though seemingly random symbols. Except, no, they weren’t random…

“Are these glyphs?” Luz asked, though the answer was evident.

“Yeah,” Miguel admitted, “guess I have a bit of a confession to make.”

Luz looked up at him, but Amity barely noticed. Her eyes were firmly fixed on the cudgel, on the symbols carved into it. Eleven of them, from what she could see, each of the base glyphs save for an empty, uncarved space near the bottom. 

“What’s that?” Luz asked, briefly pulling her away from it.

“Edwin doesn’t know the first thing about geometry,” he said, referring to someone Amity was fairly sure Luz had never mentioned, “Guy doesn’t even use a ruler to measure. I actually had to run this little request through your mom, and then she ran it through Eda and, well, here we are.”

“So when you asked to see one of my glyphs in the truck the other day,” Luz began, trailing off.

“It was really just to see if I had got the sizes right,” he confirmed, meeting her smile with one of his own. “ _ Feliz navidad, mija. _ ” 

“Amity, are you seeing this,” Luz asked her, turning to regard her and flagging at the look she must have failed to hide on her face. “Is everything alright,” she asked, the smile fleeing her own.

“What? Oh, I’m fine,” Amity assured, “I was just trying to figure out if the other carvings had any significance.”

“Oh no,” Miguel answered, “those are just decorative.”

“Well let me reiterate my request to carve my staff once I’ve earned it, then,” Amity forced herself to say, coaching her voice into something resembling normalcy. “Until then, I’m a bit hot actually,” she continued, turning to Camila, “do you mind if I step out for a minute?”

“Be my guest,  _ mija _ , but please wear a coat.”

“Of course,” Amity replied, already walking to the closet where she’d hung it. She was saved from any sort of conversation with Luz by Miguel, who’d immediately launched into some story about finding the right wood for her “bat,” as he called it. Thanking him for the interference under her breath, Amity stepped out onto the porch, trying desperately to hide her shaking hands until she closed the door behind her.

~---~

When the door opened a few minutes later, the last person Amity expected to step out was Miguel. He waited for a moment, hesitating, as if asking for her permission to stand on the porch alongside her. Part of her just wanted to be alone, but there was this look in his eyes, this… understanding almost, that prickled at her curiosity. She nodded, slightly, and he took it as a sign, leaning against the door and staring out over the snow-covered neighborhood around them.

“It’s a beautiful day out,” he said at last, gesturing to the tundra around them.

“If you like snow,” Amity replied simply, earning a snort from him.

“No wonder Cam likes you.”

“I thought it had more to do with my Scrabble skills.”

“Oh, so she got you to play?” he asked, a laugh hiding in his tone.

“Quite a few times,” Amity responded, “but I don’t imagine I’ll be winning any time soon.”

“Not likely,” he conceded, “She’s the master of that particular battlefield.”

They stayed like that for a minute, the awkwardness (mostly) broken between them. Breaths puffing into the air, gazes firmly fixed on the world ahead of them rather than the person at their side.

“Luz means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Too much, even.”

“How can a person mean too much to you?”

“When you’re a danger to that person,” Amity whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the faintly whistling wind, “When even being around you could put their life in harm’s way. When there are people that want to hurt you and she could get caught up in it? That’s caring about someone too much to do what’s best for them,” she concluded, and then, because that little knife edge in her heart never really left, “I figured you of all people would know.”

“So she told you then?”

“Not everything, I don’t think,” Amity admitted, voicing her concerns for the first time, “but enough that I have a pretty good idea.”

“You must think what I did was the right thing, then?” he asked her, the tone in his voice prompting her to glance his way. He just kept on looking straight ahead. There was no accusation in his posture, but there wasn’t a question either. He just sort of… stared. If she hadn’t heard him, she wouldn’t have been able to tell he even asked her a question.

“Well no,” she countered, turning back to the railing between her hands, “not entirely.”

“Then why are you trying to do the same thing?”

“I’m not-”

“But you are,” he insisted, the quiet confidence in his voice stoking something deep inside of her.

“You barely know me,” Amity accused, “You certainly don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, surprising her, “I don’t. But I know  _ me _ . I know the mistakes that I made, and I know that they hurt the people I loved more than they helped them. I know that if I’d made the right effort, that if I’d been more open with the woman I loved, that I wouldn’t have to walk into the house we bought together like a stranger and make my daughter happy by actually  _ being  _ at Christmas for once.”

She… didn’t really have anything to say to that. What could you say to counter that sort of honesty, that sort of  _ pain  _ that laced every syllable?

“We have to let the people we love know that we love them, Amity,” he continued, eyes still locked firmly forward, “We  _ have  _ to be vulnerable around them. Have to let ourselves be weak around them. This world, and I’m sure your world too; they don’t care if you’re alone or surrounded by people that care about you. They’ll chew you up and spit you out all the same.”

Finally, he looked back at her, and a pair of painfully familiar brown eyes met her own. The difference was, where Luz’s were bright with just the faintest hint of something dark, his were the polar opposite. Little candles, flickering dangerously against an empty night.

“Thing is, when you’ve got people that care about you, you’ve got people to pick you up when you can’t do it on your own. Luz cares for you, deeply, that much I can tell.”

“Caring for someone only gets you so far,” Amity replied bitterly, forcing herself to look away from eyes she knew she couldn’t lie to as easily as the ones she saw in the mirror.

He laughed at that, the bastard.

“Kid, do you know how many times she’s mentioned you to me? More than I can count. First as this ‘really good friend’ she made in the Isles, and then as this ‘really nice girl,’ and finally just as ‘Amity.’”

He shook his head, turning to face forward again and staring at the frozen branches of the trees ahead of them. 

“Truth is, I do  _ know  _ you Amity, at least to some degree, because Luz has never once stopped talking about you. I’m happy to say that I see most of what she was talking about, but do you know what I see more than anything?”

“What?” Amity asked, a small part of her dreading the answer.

“I see someone who’s trying their best to be better,” he responded, reaching out and scuffing her shoulder as he did, “For herself, sure, but also for someone else. That’s why, whether this thing works out between you two or not, I’m glad that I met you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Good to know that Luz has someone like you in her corner. It’s one thing to be born good. Getting there through some real, serious effort? Different thing entirely.”

“I’m starting to see where Luz gets all that wisdom from,” Amity chuckled, shaking her head at the strangeness of the situation she’d found herself in.

“Just do me a favor?”

“I’ll take care of her,” Amity responded automatically, sure she’d anticipated his next line. He was practically going verbatim off of the father/suitor talk trope, after all.

“Well, that too,” he admitted sheepishly, “but this one is more for the both of you.”

“I’m all ears,” she responded, falling back on one of the human phrases Luz had taught her.

“Let her know how much she means to you. How much losing her would hurt you, even if you don’t think it’s the best idea. Especially if you don’t.” He paused at that, settling against the railing with a grunt. Something beneath his pant leg clicked in protest, and he grimaced slightly. “Because believe me, if you don’t, you’ll regret it. You can’t live in that fear, kid. Trust me, it’s the loneliest you’ll ever be.”

He didn’t say anything else; just turned towards the door, slapped one more reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, and walked back inside. Amity waited for a moment before letting out a long sigh, tentatively pushing at the connection that lay closed just at the back of her mind.

_ No, that was a problem for another day. One thing at a time. _

But there was something she  _ could  _ do right this moment. Something she’d been wanting to do for a long time. Something she’d been damned close to doing before Miguel had interrupted her. No time like the present.

Amity didn’t quite fling the door open, but she did make enough noise doing it that all eyes in the room immediately flicked to her. Five sets of them actually, which was a solid two more than she’d expected. She certainly wasn’t expecting the newcomers to both be heterochromatic.

  
“Well, looks like the gang’s all here,” Eda called out from her position positively  _ looming  _ over Miguel. “Now it’s a party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are just getting longer and longer, but hey, it is what it is. After all, this one had to do a lot of heavy lifting in preparation for the next one. You'll see what I mean when I get there, but there may just be a surprise or two in store, depending on how things pan out. Just in time for Valentine's Day, as it turns out. As always, thank you all for reading! You all make it worth doing.


	22. An Oath, Sworn Thrice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've received an update notification, it's because I added artwork to the end of this chapter (all credit to Cutetanuki-Chan; https://cutetanuki-chan.tumblr.com/). Enjoy, and expect Chapter 23 in the very near future as well!

Amity was dead certain that the universe either had a sense of humor or just really liked screwing with her in particular. Either way, nothing could have prepared her for the sight that was playing out before her.

Lilith Clawthorne, her mentor, Matron of the Isles, and perhaps one of the strongest witches who had ever lived, was absolutely powerless before the force of nature that was Camila Noceda.

“I’d like to once again apologize for this intrusion upon your home,” Lilith said, head bowed to the woman, who seemed uncertain how to handle the gesture, “Edalyn did not inform me that we were intruding on your winter holiday until we were nearly at the Tear.”

“Please, Miss Clawthorne-”

“Oh, please call me Lilith, I insist.”

“Well alright then, Lilith,” the woman responded, a laugh curling around the sound, “We have a saying around this time of year; the more the merrier. Though we will be pushing it with so many additions…”

“Then allow me to compensate you-” Lilith began, conjuring a billfold and quickly counting out enough snails that even Amity sucked in a breath at the sight of it. Camila just smiled and placed a hand on Lilith’s forearm, lowering it before pulling away.

“That won’t be necessary,” she assured, “I’ll just have to get started on the food earlier.” Amity caught her look around the room, saw something soften in her face at the sight of Luz excitedly showing off her cudgel, no, her “bat,” to Eda. 

“Miguel,” the woman called instead, causing everyone in the room to look directly at her. 

“Yeah, Cam?” he replied nervously, withering under the glare that Eda tossed him.

“Any of those hits to the head take away your ability to cook?”

He puffed up a bit at that one, though whether it was out of pride or embarrassment was anyone’s guess.

“Well, the guys at the shop say my chili’s the best they’ve ever had,” he replied, a slight grin to his face.

_Ah, so it was pride._

“Doesn’t say much,” Camila monotoned, deflating him entirely, “but I suppose it’ll have to do. Come on, we’ve got a lot of hungry mouths to feed.”

As they hurried into the kitchen, Camila in particular shifting into what Amity had come to refer to as her “produce a mountain of food in two hours” mode, the witchling couldn’t help but notice the way her fellow witches’ eyes lingered on the pair. At the scowl that seemed permanently affixed to Eda’s whenever she glanced in Miguel’s general direction. At the blatant confusion on Lilith’s.

_Titan, they were a well-adjusted bunch, weren’t they?_

Amity’s problems roared back onto center stage with an arm around her shoulders and a quiet “ _¿Como estas?_ ” in her ear that sent fire racing down her collarbone. Thankfully, she was saved from having to confront what she’d been very close to doing by the arrival of Lilith, who’d managed an admirable effort of putting herself back together since her own fumbling interaction. Maybe she could teach Amity how to do _that_ instead of magic. 

“I’m glad to see you’re well,” Lilith began, genuine warmth in her voice, “and apparently adjusting quite admirably to the human realm.”

“ _Lilith_ ,” Luz complained, teasing a bit of pink to the witch’s cheeks.

“This is just how I talk, _Miss Noceda_ ,” she protested, grimacing as Eda slapped a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah kid,” the grey-haired witch quipped, “she’s just a big nerd all the time. It’s not like she can help it or anything.”

“I’m happy to see you as well, Lilith,” Amity added, cutting off what she was sure would have been yet another joke at her mentor’s expense, “though I’ll admit, there isn’t much to adjust to when I spend all of my time in the house.”

“Yes, I came specifically to speak to you about that, actually,” Lilith responded, a genuine smile cutting across her face, “You’ll be relieved to know that Síoltach Nafaer has been neutralized as a threat to your person.”

“That’s really good to hear,” Amity admitted, one less problem always a welcome surprise as far as she was concerned.

“To that effect,” Lilith continued, “our agents were extremely… _thorough_ in their investigation of his connections and allies-”

“And by that, she means there was a full-on magical brawl in the streets,” Eda quipped, interrupting her sister, who only acknowledged her with a long-suffering sigh.

“So does that mean?” Luz asked, trailing off as hope colored her tone.

“Yes, actually,” Lilith responded, “if you were so inclined, I do not have evidence of any immediate danger to your persons, and therefore have no power to keep you here.”

“I didn’t realize we were being ‘kept’ here,” Amity replied, suddenly wary.

“Well that’s because you went willingly,” Eda responded, surprising her by being the one to speak, “If you’d said no, well, I’m pretty sure this one would have-”

“But she didn’t,” Lilith interjected, cutting her sister off as much with her glare as her words, “and therefore there was no need for any unfortunate conversations. We might be so inclined to continue that trend. It is, after all, the holiday season. Thank you again for not informing me we were stepping into one of their most sacred holidays, dear sister.”

“What, and miss out on you trying to hand over a small fortune for dropping by unannounced?” Eda asked, a positively devilish grin on her face, “Fat chance of that.”

“So we _can_ come back,” Luz asked.

“If you so desire,” Lilith clarified, “though I would suggest for all of our sakes that you refrain from doing so at this moment. The last thing I want to do is offend your mother.”

“Well duh,” Luz responded, and Amity couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised look that crossed Lilith’s face, “walking out when my mom’s making dinner is basically signing your death warrant.”

“ _It sure is!_ ” Camila called from the kitchen, Amity realizing after a moment she’d been speaking Spanish.

_Well at least she had that going for her._

“Well that’s settled then,” Eda stated, pushing Luz’s beanie down on her head, “Now how about you show me where your drinks are, kid? I’ve had a hell of a day.”

“Oh, they’re in the fridge,” Luz chirped, pulling her arm out from around Amity, but not before her fingers traced along the back of her neck, leaving little trails of heat in her wake that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was still wearing her coat.

It took her a moment to realize that she was standing alone in the living room with Lilith. That something hung, heavy and unsaid, between them. Amity turned to say something, anything, but found a hand on her shoulder instead. The look of concern that she found staring back at her was too much, and she darted forward, wrapping her arms around the older witch’s waist.

“I-” she choked out, unable to find the words.

“There’s no need, Amity,” Lilith whispered, her own arms wrapping around her apprentice’s shoulders. “I’m very glad to see you well, _iníon liomsa._ ”

“It doesn’t end with him,” Amity mumbled in response, “It goes so much deeper.”

“I know, believe me Amity, I know.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“I can’t be certain,” Lilith admitted, “but I feel that we are only at the beginning of this storm. Though I am eternally grateful that it did not take you from me.”

“I want to help,” Amity insisted, pulling away so that she could look her mentor in the eye. It didn’t catch her off guard in the slightest that the same determination looked back at her. On these things, they were always in sync.

“I wouldn’t keep you from it for the world,” Lilith responded, and the way the words curled into a growl let her know it was a promise.

“Together then?” the witchling asked, a fanged grin across her face.

“Let’s make them wish they’d stayed hidden.”

_And the promise became an oath._

~---~

Goodbyes were harder than they had any right to be.

Amity had no idea how Luz was managing it, Camila was _her_ mother after all, but _she_ was an absolute mess. Tears streaming down her face, little pangs of heartache, longing glances at the table where they’d had one of the most oddly entertaining holiday dinners she’d ever been a part of; the whole gamut.

The dinner _had_ been interesting though. She’d come to the full conclusion that Eda _did not_ like Miguel whatsoever, which was sort of unfair, really. It did raise the question of why she’d been willing to help him with glyphs on the bat, but that one answered itself when Luz got excited about being able to crush her enemies “with like, six different elements, which is two more than she imagined,” and they both laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard, matching prideful smiles across their faces.

No, even more ridiculous was the fact that she kept looking wistfully at the coffee table in the living room, where she’d somehow managed to beat Lilith at Scrabble. Miguel had only been their fourth player as a formality, but he put up a good fight. Camila, of course, had crushed them all without barely breaking a sweat, but Amity was closing the gap between them. Lilith had even vowed to return to challenge the human woman once again, and that promised to be quite the sight indeed.

Begrudgingly, Amity had to admit that she was just trying to distract herself, that Luz’s hand was in her own, very insistent on stepping through the portal Lilith was holding open for them. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Three days after Christmas or no three days, it still didn’t feel like enough time to express her gratitude. She’d said “thank you” so many times it felt like she’d worn the words down to nothing. They just kept dropping from her lips as she thanked Camila for her hospitality, the food, being there to talk to her-

“And thank you for the gifts, of course,” she added, earning a groan from the woman.

“ _Mija_ , you’ve already thanked me for the gifts at least six times-”

“Seven times, actually,” Luz quipped from over her shoulder, the traitor.

“Seven times,” Camila amended with a grin, holding her hands out in front of her. Amity took them, because of course she did, and the woman squeezed them tight. “You are more than welcome here anytime you like, with or without that little troublemaker.” She grinned at the last part, ignoring her daughter’s protests as she forged on. “But if you say the words ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’ one more time, I’m going to scream.”

“Right, sorr-” she almost said, catching herself. She cast about for the right words for a moment, but came up with nothing, instead looking up to meet the woman’s eyes and nodding. As the edges of her vision began to blur, she made to pull away, but a tug from Camila and her own nod was all it took to get dragged into the sort of hug that was becoming steadily less unfamiliar.

The arms that wrapped around both of them were unsurprising, this being only the latest in a series of group hugs that Camila insisted were not magical in any way, no matter how many times she asked.

“Lilith,” Luz called back, deafening Amity in one ear, “do you want to-”

“No.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

They pulled away after a few more moments, Amity (of course) being the last one to give up the warmth, though Luz was a close second. The witchling stepped away to give them their moment, grabbing her bags and walking to stand beside Lilith. Right as Luz finally turned towards them, trying and failing to hide the lone tear that streaked down her cheek, Amity remembered what she’d been trying to do in the first place.

“Camila,” she called, reaching into her coat as she crossed the distance between them, “could you make sure that this gets to Miguel for me?”

Camila took the letter from Amity’s hand, glancing at it curiously before turning back to her. “How did you know he wouldn’t be able to make it?” she asked, jokingly suspicious.

“Call it a hunch,” Amity replied, a knowing look on her face.

“I’ll make sure he gets it,” Camila assured her, “even if I have to dig up his address to do it.”

Amity went to say thank you, but caught herself again at the last moment, nodding instead and returning to Lilith’s side. With one last wave goodbye, they stepped through the portal, and the laws of space sort of gave up and walked away for a minute.

When they stepped through on the other side, it felt like barely seconds had passed, but each of their coats was covered in frost, Amity practically chilled to the bone. It was winter in the Isles, to be certain, but the air wasn’t nearly cold enough to all but freeze her to the spot.

“That’s new,” Luz remarked between clicking teeth.

“The Tears are tied to the innate magic of the Titan itself,” Lilith explained, not even bothering to be the normal sort of person who reacts to things like being cold, “and as a result, when the flow of the Titan’s magic is disrupted or altered, unexpected side effects may occur.” 

“Like almost freezing to death in the three seconds it takes to step through a portal?” Luz asked, wrapping her arms around Amity in what was (absolutely) just a practical measure to share body heat. She winced at the bemused look in Lilith’s eye at the sight of them.

“More like winter in the Isles itself,” the witch clarified, turning and beginning the long trek back into town.

“Wait, what?” Luz asked, running after Lilith and pulling Amity along with her.

“We are surrounded by a boiling sea; the clouds regularly drop boiling rain,” Lilith said, adopting the sort of lecturing tone that made Amity subconsciously straighten her posture, “What about that suggests it would be possible for a cold-weather front to form that would bring cooler temperatures and the potential for snow?”

“I figured it was just magic,” Luz replied plainly.

“It is, but magic must still act within the pre-established laws of the universe.”

“It does?”

“Of course it does,” Lilith chided, “what is Edalyn teaching you?”

“Mostly how to fight, to be honest.”

“Then we shall soon be remedying that,” Lilith stated, quickening her pace, “from now on, you will join Amity in her studies with me. She is, of course, a ways ahead of you, but I trust she’d be more than willing to catch you up to speed.”

“I would?” Amity asked, not exactly hating the idea, but not too keen on her free time being volunteered either.

“I’d imagine you would,” Lilith responded, a sly grin crossing her face, “after all, you and Luz will be spending a great deal more time together from now on.”

“We will?” Luz asked, sounding genuinely excited.

“Most definitely. There are still dark forces abroad in this world, and while I have neither the resources nor the manpower to keep the two of you under constant guard, you are both exceptional young witches.” Lilith paused, taking a moment to meet Amity’s eyes, to soften the facade just enough for her to see the concern that ran beneath. “Therefore, I feel that it’s in all of our best interests for you two to travel together whenever you are not in either the Owl House, my home, or the Ciorcal.”

“What about the library?” Amity asked.

“What about it?”

“Well, I work there,” she contended, “and I doubt Luz is going to want to sit there for hours at a time.”

They both looked at her oddly at that one, but it was Luz who spoke up first.

“Amity, you know I’m a huge nerd, right?”

“Of course I do,” Amity clarified, unable to stop the fond smile that cropped up on her face at the admission, “It’s not that, really. It’s just…”

What was it though, really? Was it the fact that most of her work was done alone, in the archives, digging up old tomes for clients and personal use alike? That the loneliness of it had, as a result, led to her talking to herself, the books, and just about every inanimate object down there? Or was it the fact that it was the only place where she could be truly, utterly alone? The only place where she could sit in solitude with her own thoughts and not have to worry about all the pressures of the world around her.

_Was she that selfish?_

“It’s nothing, really,” Amity forced herself to say, “I’m just worried about you getting bored and getting into something dangerous.”

“That’s-” Luz began

“An entirely valid concern,” Lilith interjected, the human begrudgingly shrugging and nodding along after a moment, “but we must all make sacrifices in the name of the greater good. I can’t imagine this will be one that causes you an undue amount of hardship.”

“Can’t you just say it won’t be that bad?” Luz asked teasingly. Amity breathed a sigh of relief as the two of them got into it (lovingly of course), her own protests apparently forgotten. It was crazy to not want to spend time with Luz, right? They’d basically promised not to leave each other, after all. This was just an extension of that. Granted, one enforced by her mentor who also just so happened to be the leader of their people, but that shouldn’t change anything, right?

_Or maybe you just don’t want to give her more opportunities to ask about the Bond._

“ _Oh, hello intrusive thoughts,_ ” Amity thought to herself, “ _I was wondering when you were going to show up and put me back in a bad mood._ ”

Still, that little voice in her head had hit the nail on its own. She _was_ happy to be spending more time with Luz, thrilled even, but the potential of _that_ conversation was always in the background of their interactions. They were Bonded, impossibly so even, and that implied a level of intimacy that only further complicated whatever it was between them. Were they dating? Were they a _thing_? Amity didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to be the first one to ask.

Miguel had mentioned this thought experiment during their Scrabble game, probably just to stall for time, but it applied regardless. Apparently, there was this human philosopher who talked about putting a cat in a box (whatever a cat was), and as long as he didn’t open the box, and couldn’t perceive what was inside of it, he couldn’t definitively say whether or not the cat was dead. Granted, Miguel had made the same comparison to the bag of letters he had to pull from, claiming no one could be sure whether he won or lost if he just never took the next letter out of it.

That one hadn’t really held up to any level of scrutiny, but Amity got the appeal. As long as she didn’t _ask_ Luz that all-important question, didn’t put a label on what they had, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting the answer or response she was dreading. No, she’d sit happily between yes and no and ride that maybe all the way to the grave. Or, at least that was the intention.

But there had been that moment, the night Luz came back, when Amity had almost defined it. Luz had even seemed willing then, but that could have just been wishful thinking. Then everything had happened, and Amity was far more concerned with, you know, _living_ than anything else. Only to have two more close calls, back-to-back, first with the bracelet and then when she’d finally gotten the courage up, only to be thwarted once again by the universe.

Was it a sign? Were they just not supposed to be together? And, just to be completely unrealistic, if they _did_ get together, what would that even look like? Would Luz be willing if Amity never opened the Bond between them again? Because that was staying shut no matter what, so they’d have to talk about that.

But none of that mattered because she was firmly in maybe territory, and there was nothing-

“ _Brujita_?”

_Shit._

“Yeah, sorry,” she found herself saying, desperately trying to catch up to the world she’d let blur past her. “I kind of got lost in thought there,” she admitted. Lilith snorted at that one and she wondered (not for the first time) if those stories about the Emperor’s Coven having secret mind-reading spells weren’t so inaccurate. 

“Luz was just saying that if you’re so eager to get back to the library, you might as well go now,” Lilith half-teased/half-informed her. 

“What about our bags?” Amity asked, looking around them and realizing with a start that they were at the edge of town. She could actually see the dome of the library over the nearest buildings. Well, that, and the fact that the city was basically _occupied_.

Every member of the Peacekeepers and their mothers had to have been on the streets, flying through the air in tight formation on their staves, or set up in little guard posts at the intersections. To their credit, they did a much better job of it than the Emperor’s witches had. People were nervous, sure, but most of the peacekeepers had their masks on their belts rather than their faces, and it was a whole different story to know that your neighbors were there to keep you safe rather than having no clue _who_ the masked witches prowling around were.

Still, it wasn’t the Bonesborough she’d gotten used to over the last few years, and seeing it close to the way it used to be just felt… wrong, somehow.

“I’m confident I could find someone to take your bags to the appropriate places,” Lilith assured her, raising a hand as she did so and calling a pair of peacekeepers down from the sky. As they dismounted and stood at attention, Luz shrugged, keeping her backpack on but handing the rest of her possessions over to an absolute tree of a witch. 

“Thank you, Osmond,” Amity said, nodding to him in recognition as she followed suit.

“Of course, Miss Blight,” he responded with a half-bow, “we’re happy to see you out and about again. You missed all the fun.”

“So I’ve been told,” Amity replied, “Would I be right in assuming that my siblings got caught up in all that ‘fun.’”

His face split into a grin, and he opened his mouth to say something, only to cut off abruptly at a look from Lilith. He nodded instead, passing two of the bags he was holding to his fellow peacekeeper before returning to his staff.

“Are they-” Amity began.

“Perfectly fine,” Lilith interrupted, anticipating her question, “but we’re playing a few things close to the chest for the time being. I’m sure they’ll fill you in the next time you see them.”

“ _You_ can’t tell me?” Amity asked, not even bothering to hide the frustration in her voice.

“I’ve no idea what they’re doing,” Lilith responded, surprising her, “and that is entirely for the sake of plausible deniability.” She glanced at the sun, now well over halfway to the horizon. “Which reminds me,” she added with a huff, “I have to prepare for an evening meeting with the Coven heads to discuss the increased peacekeeper presence in the city.”

“They want you to get rid of them?” Luz asked as she rooted around in her backpack for Titan knows what.

“Quite the opposite in fact. They apparently want me to produce more out of thin air.”

“ _More_?” They asked in sync, glancing at the practical army around them.

“Oh yes,” Lilith droned, looking wistfully towards the Titan’s distant skull, “they’re quite convinced that our foe has hordes of witches just waiting to descend upon the city, intent on returning us to the days of the Empire.”

“Do they?” Amity asked, uncertain.

“We’ve no idea,” Lilith replied, doing an admirable effort of coaching the same uncertainty out of her voice. But Amity knew her, and she knew her tells. There was more to it than she was letting on, but that was pretty much textbook Lilith. 

“Regardless,” she continued, “you two have had quite a great deal of excitement, and there is sure to be more in the near future, so please, take the time now to relax and reacquaint yourselves with the Isles. We’ve taken great pains to ensure that life be allowed to continue at more or less the same pace. And if anything happens-”

“We just start yelling and the army of peacekeepers comes to our rescue?” Luz asked, only slightly teasing.

“Precisely.”

“And where might my siblings be,” Amity asked, concerned about ambushes of an entirely different sort, “if it’s not a closely kept secret, that is.”

“Last I was aware, they were working with Edalyn to dig up potential sources of information along the western shore.”

“So what you’re saying is, they’re far from here?”

“After a fashion, yes.”

“You could just say yes,” Luz interjected, earning a huff out of the older witch.

“And on that note,” Lilith stressed, “I have urgent business that I need to attend to.”

Without little other than a begrudgingly fond smile and a shake of her head, Lilith turned and strode away, tossing her staff into the air alongside her as she did and nimbly catching herself on it before darting off in the direction of the Ciorcal.

“Can we both just take a moment to acknowledge how cool that was,” Luz asked her, flicking the switch that never failed to make her smile.

“She _is_ the Matron of the Isles,” Amity tossed back, losing sight of her in the back-and-forth air traffic of the peacekeepers.

“Shall we then?” Luz asked her, putting on that ridiculous accent and bowing low, one hand outstretched. Against her better judgment, Amity took it, letting the human lead her towards the library.

“Maybe” could be a spectrum, right?

~---~

“You’re going to love this one,” Luz called back to her, and Amity winced at the way it echoed through the empty halls of the library.

They’d been there for hours, the Archivist having refused to have given her any work so soon after being “indisposed,” as he put it. He’d always been a severe man, and an outright taskmaster at that, but the tone in his voice when he’d first seen her walk through the door, the warmth in it, well, it hadn’t made her cry, but her throat still got tight at the thought of it. Again and again, it had forced to confront a truth she hadn’t quite come to terms with yet.

_She’d been missed, and by quite a few people at that._

One such person was currently looking back at her in equal parts frustration and bemusement. She did her best to smile back at Luz, overshooting it by a mile and hitting her with a look that drew a blush to the human’s cheek.

_Remember Amity, stick to maybe._

Music filtered out of some device behind Luz - a strange blend of human technology and Augustus’ artifice that was the latest in a long line of speaker prototypes. This one, at least, seemed to be working far better than the last few. The song that filtered out, now familiar after hearing Luz pick her way through it a dozen times, washed over her, and she closed her eyes, twirling slightly as it caught her in its rhythm.

She cracked an eye open to find Luz staring at her, awe writ plain across her features. For that brief moment, she let concern melt away, because maybe was a spectrum, and surely she was still within it.

“ _¿Podría tener este baile?_ ” Luz asked her, and she only understood half the words, but she nodded anyway, opening her eyes and extending a hand to her. As she took it, Amity couldn’t help but let her thoughts drift to that night, years ago now, when everything had been so new and uncertain between them. It was still the latter in every sense of the word, but the former had faded. 

They were familiar with this dance now, with the steps that took them around the room. The music wasn’t important, and each time it changed, they altered their pace only slightly, as if a deeper motif ran under each and bound them together.

Each turn unraveled the world around them, every dip taking more of the sky with it. Shelves and tables, chairs and podiums moved seemingly of their own accord, were one not paying close attention to the glyphs and abominable appendages that ensured nothing stopped the motion of two bodies moving as one.

Amity never felt tired when they danced, never felt her breath grow uneven or halting save for those moments when Luz looked directly into her eyes. But this time, when their eyes met, there was something else there. Something sharp and tense.

Dimly, she realized that something was nudging against the barriers she’d placed along her end of the Bond. The walls she’d thrown up and enforced to keep anything and everything from digging into what little she had left. She wasn’t doing it consciously, but when had Luz ever asked for permission before setting her world on fire. She was the sun after all, and it was simply the way of things that she would move and define the movement of all that came with her on a whim.

She was tempted to open it, to stay in that spectrum of maybe by letting her see just how ragged her soul felt. How difficult it was to stay in the moment, to tie her emotions together in a way that made sense. To make something concrete out of shards and scraps of all that remained.

But then she pulled away. Not physically, no, they were only drawing closer. The music had stopped, but they were still dancing, drawn along by the motif rather than the melody. It was a simple motion, the furthest from elegant, but it still felt like flying.

No, Luz had pulled away from the Bond. Had recognized that a part of her had been reaching out, had realized it, and chosen to pull away. And yet, she hadn’t left her. She was still in the moment with her, eyes still locked on her own, practically wrapped in an embrace. She’d given her space, and time, and permission to move at her own pace.

_And Amity had never loved her more._

Still, there was that look in her eyes. That tension lingered just beneath the surface. Their steps weren’t as easy, the music drifting away and depositing her firmly in the moment, in the world she’d left behind.

“What is it?” Amity asked, placing a hand on Luz’s cheek, surprised even by her own boldness.

“Do you know what it’s like to feel like you’re going insane?”

Luz must’ve felt her tense up in her embrace, because she immediately launched into an explanation.

“I don’t mean the sort of ‘stressed out, can’t keep your thoughts straight,’ sort of insane. I’m talking about the certifiable ‘I don’t know if things are real’ sort. Because I do. God, Amity, I do.”

Luz turned away from her for a moment, tears streaking down her face, wetting her fingers as she kept her hand in place. Slowly, gently, she applied pressure, bringing Luz’s eyes back to her own.

“I can’t tell you the number of times I woke up in a panic,” she choked out, “convinced that I was mid-fight with some sort of monster. The moments where I’d drift back into reality and realize that I was sitting at a desk, staring at a computer, writing about something I couldn’t even begin to bring myself to care about, and it was all to get back here. But sometimes, there was just this thought in my head that wouldn’t go away. What if there was no ‘here?’

“See, I’m sure you’ve picked up on it by now, I’ve mentioned it a few times, but I don’t belong over there.” Her voice grew harsh, grating even, and there was this undercurrent of anger. But not at her, _never_ at her. This sort of long-bottled frustration that was finally finding release. “Sure, there are people I care about there, but I could count them on one hand. My life is here; most of the people I love are here. So, in those moments, when I couldn’t help but imagine that maybe, just maybe, I had made it all up? It was like a part of me died each time.

Luz placed a hand over Amity’s, intertwining their fingers and bringing them down to the steadily shrinking space between them. Her eyes followed the motion, leaving Amity’s, but when they returned the anger had fled. Something else had taken its place. Something deep; that as much as it _burned_ her, she couldn’t possibly look away from.

“But do you know what I did _every single time_ I felt like it all might have just been a dream?” Luz asked her, voice low, “Those times where I felt so close to the edge, so close to just giving up on it all and letting myself be turned into the person my world clearly wanted me to be? Do you know what grounded me?

“You,” she whispered, and the way she said it left Amity certain it was a promise.

“Every time things got dark, every time I got close to that edge, I wrote to you. I’d drop whatever I was doing, rush to my bookshelf, grab whichever book we were on, and I’d just scribble out a little note to you. Every little ‘hello,’ ‘hiya,’ and ‘thinking about you,’ those weren’t cute little phrases, I wasn’t just trying to start a conversation; they were claw marks. Ugly, ripping claw marks where my nails tore into the dirt and desperately tried to pull proof from nothing. Do you know what happened, every single time?

“You answered,” she breathed, and the promise became an oath.

“There was never a delay,” she continued, the world fading around them, reduced to nothing by comparison, “never a lack of response. Like clockwork, I could write something down, wait _seventeen_ seconds, and know that I’d see your handwriting start to creep across the page. I would follow it with my finger, pretending I could feel your hand against mine. 

“Amity,” she breathed, voice more vulnerable than she’d ever heard it, “I set my heart by those seconds, grounded my sanity in those seconds, hell, I didn’t even breathe for those seconds. For so long, those little responses were my only way of knowing it had all been real. That what I had, what we had, was real.

“And, it kills me, because I think you know what that’s like. To be so unsure of yourself, so convinced that everything in the world was working against you, but to have that one person who was _always_ there. Always willing and able to take the time to assure you that you weren’t crazy, even if they didn’t realize that’s what they were doing. And, in a way, that was better, because I don’t think I could have laid that burden on you otherwise.

Luz faltered, voice failing, but there was no more looking away, no more uncertainty. She took a moment to collect herself that stretched into an eternity, and Amity briefly understood what it meant to hold your breath until your sanity was restored.

“You were my _rock_ , Amity. You were my anchor. And when I was sad, or desperate, or so painfully lonely that I just wanted to curl up in a ball and forget everything, I wrote to you, and you _always_ answered. I don’t know how you did, really, but words don’t even describe what it meant to me. What it still means to me. But I can think of a few that come close,” she whispered, so much closer now. Mere inches between them.

Silence held, fragile and still. Amity swore that the world itself had simply ceased to be beyond the bounds of Luz’s face. Past brown eyes that glimmered with tears and something deeper. That same something that _burned_ just behind them. Past lips that parted as she spoke, changing her world forever.

“I love you, Amity,” Luz whispered, voice thin, tears streaming down her face. “I’m _in_ love with you. _Te amo como me amo a mí mismo, porque sin ti no existiría un yo._ ”

The words ran through Amity’s mind like lightning, igniting synapses in their wake. Clearing away concern, burning doubt to the ground. In their wake, they brought life, a second chance; opportunity. 

Luz laughed, and the sound of it, so uncertain; so close to the breaking glass tone of her own, it all but shattered her. “I realize that that’s probably more than you can muddle through,” she muttered, “but I can translate if you’d like?”

Amity nodded, numb, words unspared by the roaring blaze that consumed her.

“It means that I love you like I love myself, because without you-”

“There would be no me,” Amity whispered, interrupting her. The human’s eyes went wide at the realization, at the sincerity in the witch’s voice. Of how she meant every word in kind.

“Amity-” Luz began, cutting herself off, a sleeve brushing the tears from her face but doing nothing to wipe away furious blush bloomed across her cheeks. “Can I- Can we?”

Amity couldn’t muster a response if she wanted to. No matter how desperate she was. There was just this feeling, this overwhelming sensation. This warmth that started in her chest and spread to every part of her in an instant. An inferno that burned everything else away, and left only this _need_.

“Can I kiss you?” Luz forced out, her voice echoing around the empty room, blush deep enough to match her own.

“Please,” Amity begged, voice quiet. _So she did._

And her mind bloomed back into life.

They crashed against one another like a new-formed tide hitting long-weathered shores. Like a storm roaring out of the heavens to lash the impertinent earth. Clumsy and uncertain at first, but growing in intensity with each passing breath, each whispered assurance. The fire spread, and grew, danced in their wake, and raced across the space between them. Across every bridge and Bond.

And it destroyed all that it touched.

Something between them caught fire, burned to ash, and crumbled; and something deeper broke, was reforged, and held fast. Amity knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, beyond any question, that the truest words she’d ever heard had just been spoken. That as emotion and promise raced across the Bond like so many flickering tongues driven forward by the blaze, they carried heated assurance.

Luz _loved_ her, was _in love_ with her, and she _deserved_ that love. They were simple truths, plain and unassailable. Untouched by the flames when all else was taken. Deeper still, Amity _loved_ her, was _in love_ with her, and it wasn’t just because she’d drawn her into the light. She _was_ the light, but she was also its source. And she burned brightest when they were together.

“I love you,” Amity whispered back between breaths, and she felt Luz smile against her lips. “I’m in love with you,” she continued, and hands slipped around her waist and pulled her so close she couldn’t tell where she ended and Luz began. “You’re the light that calls me back home, that makes me realize I’m worth loving.”

Their lips met again, and she wasn’t certain if the Bond had broken, been reopened, or had just become so great that trying to find its presence would be like finding where the sky began and ended.

And then she heard it, soft but insistent. Just at the edge of her hearing, but cutting through the background with perfect clarity. This melody that pulled at something deep inside of her. At once unfamiliar and achingly so. It was the song they’d danced to when there was no music. Nothing other than the harmony of their souls, blending and pouring forth as one note, one rhythm, one muse. 

It left her aching as it waned, overwhelmed her as it waxed. Pulled her along as it ebbed and flowed, and drew her mind, her power to the Bond that made it audible. Together, they laid it with stone and wrapped it in steel, binding it with a truth, an oath that was somehow stronger than either. 

_Sworn-thrice and made true, they forged their own Bond anew, and Amity stepped into the light._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so time got away from me, but I am back to leave some proper chapter notes. First and foremost, let me just say how incredibly honored and humbled I am that you have all lent your support to this story in such varied ways. Kudos, comments, likes, hits, etc., all just spur me forward to keep wanting to create content and share it with you. Secondly, with that in mind, and in the interest of keeping my creative mindset intact, I'm going to be taking a two-week break from this series, starting now. Somewhere along the way, there may be a little something added to this chapter, but I'll make it clear when that's happened. Until then, thank you as always, and I look forward to returning to this story.


	23. Amanacer

Bacon sizzled and hissed in the pan, filling the room with the savory aroma of something that wasn’t quite pork, but got close enough that Luz was willing to let it slide. She still had no clue what a “gristlehorn” was, and chances are she _didn’t want to know_ , but for the time being, her blissful ignorance was more than enough.

Of course, that was far from the _only_ reason she was smiling.

No, that honor would have to go to the little ghost sensations that passed across her lips, her shoulders, her neck. The whispered remnants of the night before, wrapping around her as surely as the cheery late-morning light and the heady aromas of what she was cooking.

She should have realized of course, that where there was breakfast being made, there was also bound to be Eda, but that didn’t fail to make her jump when the witch in question plopped herself down at her usual spot in the breakfast nook.

“Morning, kid,” she grunted unceremoniously, stretching her arms far over her head. The chorus of cracks and pops would’ve been enough to get to her on most mornings, but there were other things that occupied her mind.

_Like the music that still swelled at the back of her mind whenever she passed a finger over her lips._

“Good morning, Eda,” Luz sang back, unwittingly to the beat of the very same melody.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“I can’t be happy to be back in the Isles?” Luz responded over her shoulder, opening a cupboard and setting two plates on the counter. At the drowsy scraping of claws entering the kitchen, she set a third beside them.

“No, that’s one level of happiness,” Eda replied past a yawn, “you’re pushing at least three.”

“Well maybe I’m happy to see _you_ too,” Luz quipped back, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of the witch before turning back to take her bacon off the burner.

“Still only two,” Eda teased, forking a bit of pancake into her mouth. Beside her, King blearily reached for the syrup, nearly knocking it over before the witch beside him subconsciously righted it. Her eyes stayed focused on Luz, gears turning behind them, before something clicked.

“How’s baby Blight?” she asked, her grin positively devilish.

_“Can I kiss you?”_

_“Please.”_

“She has a name,” Luz teased back, trying and failing to hide the blush that flared across her features. The little stutter that worked its way into her voice at the thought of, well, exactly how many times she’d said the witch’s name the night before.

“Fine, how’s Amity?”

_Was she going to feel that thrill at the back of her neck every time now?_

“She’s great,” Luz forced out, voice loud enough that it made _her_ flinch. “Just sleeping in her own bed- er, you know, at her house?”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Eda responded slowly, meeting Luz’s flustered gaze with utter composure. “After all, I dropped by to check your room on the way downstairs.”

“Eda!”

“What?” the witch replied past a mouthful of pancakes, “You left the door open. I couldn’t just _not_ look.”

“That’s still an invasion of privacy,” Luz replied, setting her own plate down at the table. The moment she passed the bacon she brought with her to the middle of the table, half of it disappeared into King’s eager gullet.

“Besides,” Eda continued, smacking the demon’s hand away as he attempted to take some of _her_ bacon as well, “I didn’t expect her to still be here _this_ early in the morning.”

“She was never here in the first place,” Luz clarified, “and it’s eleven.”

“My point exactly.”

“That’s _still_ an invasion of privacy,” Luz repeated, pressing the point, “and besides, weren’t you all for ‘letting nature take its course?’ Which is still gross, by the way.”

The witch appraised her for a moment, letting the implication beneath Luz’s own words bite back at her.

“Looks like I didn’t need to go through all the trouble,” she finally said, the sly grin across her face absolutely devastating in its simple, knowing presence.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luz stammered, trying desperately not to catch sight of herself in the window.

“She’s great, huh?”

“What do you-”

Oh no.

_Oh God no._

Giving up on any pretense, Luz turned to face the window, pressing a finger to her neck; her collarbone as she frantically looked for any evidence of the night before. Eda laughed so hard she _wheezed_ at the sorry display, tears streaming down her face.

“The whole time?” Luz asked, utterly mortified.

“Yep,” Eda managed to choke out past her laughter. King scowled and huffed at the outburst of noise, grabbing his plate off the table and waddling off into the living room to finish his meal in peace. Luz didn’t blame him.

_She’d also be anywhere else but right here, right now._

Still, it might be a bit easier if she could find what Eda was laughing about so much. There wasn’t anything that she could see in the window, poor mirror that it was, and contrary to what the witch might think, the only place where anything _would_ be was above her shoulders, thank you very much. Desperate, she glanced back at the witch, and her eyes seemed to soften a bit, a clawed finger gesturing to her lips.

Copying it, Luz felt that same phantom whisper of sensation, the swell of music that accompanied it, though this time it sounded a lot more like a funeral dirge. Sure enough, when she pressed her fingers down, her lips felt tender to the touch. Knowing what to look for, another glance in the window showed her that yes, her _lips were bruised_.

_“Ow,” she remembered whispering, a weight pressed over her. Hands carding through her hair in the dark._

_“What is it?” Amity had whispered back, the very image of concern in the sliver of moonlight that illuminated her face._

“And you didn’t tell me?” she half-asked, half-shouted instead, forcing _that_ particular thought far to the back of her mind.

“I couldn’t be sure until you got closer,” Eda countered, still laughing, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Eda!”

“What?” she asked, “at least I didn’t let you go out like that.”

Flustered beyond cohesive thought, Luz sat, stewing in her own embarrassment. Maybe if Eda saw the effect the conversation was having on her, she’d drop it? Maybe they could just have a normal breakfast and pretend none of this ever happened-

“First time with fangs, huh?” the witch asked instead, and Luz just decided to throw any sense of dignity she had left to the wind.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time!”

“Oh, it is,” Eda replied with a tone that made Luz _groan_ internally. “As long as you take the proper... _precautions_.”

“I’d really rather not be having this conversation right now,” Luz groaned _externally_ , introducing her forehead to the table and resolving to leave it there until it either rotted away or she _died_ , whichever came last.

“Who else are you going to talk to,” her mentor teased, “Lily?”

“Not unless I want a detailed tutorial with pictures and a pop quiz after,” Luz replied, laughing despite herself. At least when Eda joined in (Lilith jokes were always a hit with the witch) she felt like she was laughing _with_ her, rather than _at_ her.

“Ugh,” Luz finally sighed, throwing her head back, “I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

“We’re all messes, kid,” Eda replied, pushing her plate to the center of the table. “But this is actually a good opportunity. Something I’ve been meaning to get to.”

“Eda, I don’t need _another_ talk.”

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t, you little casanova.”

“I’m never living this one down, am I?” Luz asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not a chance,” Eda teased.

“Fine, then,” Luz replied, consigning herself to her fate, “opportunize away.”

Eda just grinned in response, raising a hand to the archway and sending a little pulse down Luz’s senses. Not even a moment later, a thick, leather-bound book slammed into her palm. As she cracked it open, Luz immediately recognized the diagrams, though there were _a lot_ more markings in the margins than hers.

“Is that your codex?” she asked, the magic nerd part of her brain winning out over her embarrassment.

“Sure is,” Eda replied absentmindedly, flipping to a page near the beginning (and as a result, skipping all of the cool stuff about “binding demons to your will”). Instead, Luz groaned again at the sight of the healing glyph that marked the page.

“I’ve tried those, Eda,” Luz warned, “and the results haven’t been… wonderful.”

“Oh, I’m well aware kid,” Eda replied, smiling ruefully, “I saw you try to heal that scrape on your leg during training.”

“Where did all that skin even come from?”

“Well that’s just the thing,” Eda mused, pressing a finger to the page and reading along one of the lines, “I couldn’t figure out _why_ you were having so much trouble with it, and then this guy almost took my head off the other day-”

“Wait, what?”

“And I thought ‘gee, now that my body’s got to stay in one piece, it sure would be hard to regrow my head,’ and there we are,” she concluded, pointing to a single word near the center of the page. At least, Luz was pretty sure it was a word. It looked like it was in some sort of language that did not share her alphabet, and it was in _Eda’s_ handwriting to boot, which meant that it rested somewhere between “madwoman’s scribblings” and “chicken scratch.”

“That… doesn’t help me at all,” Luz finally said, giving up on trying to decipher it, “If anything, it just makes me worried for your sanity.”

“Sanity’s overrated as it is,” came Eda’s response, her eyes still firmly fixed to the page.

“Fair,” Luz admitted, “but still unsettling. Still don’t get how you almost getting decapitated is supposed to help me understand the healing glyph, other than what it _can’t do_ , that is.”

“Well that’s just the thing, isn’t it?” Eda asked her, scowling slightly at the blank look that Luz knew was plastered to her face.

“It’s not a _healing_ glyph,” her mentor clarified, speaking slowly.

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not, it’s-” Eda cut off, taking a moment to collect herself before sheepishly rubbing at her neck, “Geez, I’m no good at this. The proper name of the glyph is _Ar Ais_ , which is a lot closer to ‘return’ than it is to ‘healing.’”

“What do you mean by ‘proper name?’” Luz asked, the first time she’d ever heard of glyphs being named anything other than what they were in her codex.

“The original language the notes that went into that codex were written in is called the ‘old tongue’ - something that a lot of witches used to speak before Belos’ whole ‘Subjugation of the Isles’ thing.”

“And you speak it?”

“Some of it,” Eda clarified, “well, actually, not much at all. Lily and I, our mom used to read us stories in it when we were little, even though she could’ve been vanished for it. I knew a lot when I was younger, but you know how it goes.”

The way she trailed off, eyes lost in thoughts of what used to be, was unfortunately something Luz was all too familiar with. Not so much on her end as on her mother’s. There were moments when she’d be talking about something from back home - something that filled her eyes with light and made her speak a mile a minute - only to lose track of it. It was something they held in common; her two moms, and as much as she couldn’t do anything about it, there wasn’t a thing Luz wouldn’t give for a glyph that restored memories. She’d checked, after all, and apparently there were some things her magic couldn’t do.

“Does Lilith speak it?” she asked instead, hoping to tie Eda’s memories back to a common thread.

“Apparently,” Eda replied with a fond huff, looking up from the codex for the first time since she’d summoned it, “I wouldn’t have put it past her to figure it out while we were translating everything that ended up in the book. She certainly got faster at it as she went.”

“So, _Ar Ais_ ,” Luz attempted, doing her best to shape the words in her mouth, “that means ‘return?’”

“That was pretty good, kid,” Eda acknowledged, awarding her with a patented Eda head scuff. “Yeah,” she confirmed, “it means ‘return,’ but I guess ‘revert’ would be the best way to look at it.”

“That’s what it says on Lilith’s chart,” Luz replied, pushing herself into the seat next to Eda, peering over the notes scattered across the page. Eda huffed again, but she couldn’t even try to hide the fondness in her voice this time when she did, and if she moved over ever so slightly, well, Luz wouldn’t hurt her reputation by acknowledging it, now would she?

“Alright, yeah,” she began, tracing the glyph with her finger, “So a good way to look at it wouldn’t be that you’re _healing_ someone, but that you’re causing their body to _revert_ to a healthy state.”

“So if I pushed too much power into it…” Luz continued, trailing off.

“You’d get piles of skin,” Eda concluded, “and probably one _killer_ headache.”

“You got that right,” Luz conceded, wincing in sympathy for her past self. “Okay, so it’s precise,” she muttered to herself, “and I have to be careful with the amount of power I use, so it should be smaller…”

She trailed off again as she lost herself in thought, reaching to her side for her usual supplies and finding herself pulled out of them by the absence of her cloak. Eda set her pen and papers on the table instead, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

“What happened to ‘always prepared?’” the witch asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

“I was distracted,” Luz muttered, stating the obvious.

“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

Scowling at the implication, Luz copied the shaking motion she’d seen Eda do to get the beetle inside going and set the nib to parchment. Hesitating for a moment, she tore the page into fourths, then etched out four healing glyphs with practiced motions. Meeting her mentor’s eyes again and taking a moment to thrill at the barely concealed approval, she took a deep breath before pressing one of the fourths to her lips and pushing her will through it.

There was a familiar sensation of _something_ warm passing through her body, and then an equal and opposite cooling sensation that spread across her lips. Pressing one hesitant finger to them, she found them smoother than they’d ever been, but a small part of her couldn’t help but feel sad at the loss of the dual sensations that went with the healed bruises. Glancing over, she found Eda staring at her, pride warring with something else across her features.

“What’s up?” she asked, only a little disappointed to not find outright approval.

“Nothing,” Eda replied, coaching her face into _just_ pride, that other thing lurking beneath the surface, “It’s just, it probably took me twenty-something tries to get that glyph to work - and that was after I’d figured it out - and you just… _did it_.”

“Oh, well you know-” Luz began, starting to feel self-conscious.

“No,” Eda interjected, cutting her off, “You did good, kid. Real good. Don’t ever apologize because you’re great at something. I’m proud of you.”

The way she said it seemed to banish whatever else was running through her mind, and then Luz was blushing for an entirely different reason. Looking back up, she met Eda’s soft smile with one of her own, reveling in the rare opportunity until something clattered out in the living room and broke the moment.

“Well, that’s enough sappiness for me,” Eda chuckled, pushing herself up from the table and rattling off another bone-creaking stretch, “I was supposed to report to Lily last night, so I’m sure she’s fuming at this point.”

“Report to her, huh?” Luz replied with a smirk.

“Yeah, well she wanted me to _file_ reports,” Eda responded, pushing her aside as she extricated herself from the nook, “Compromise was that I could give ‘em in person.”

“Someday I’ll figure out exactly what she has on you.”

“What, I can’t just be a concerned citizen?” Eda asked, voice pitched to mock-offense. Luz met the statement with a stare, and the witch shook her head seemingly at the mere idea of her student being able to make her flag. Still, she acquiesced.

“Fine,” she groaned teasingly, “you got me. Lily figured out my true name, and she’s been using it to bind me to her service ever since.”

“No, it’s something else.”

“You’d make a good detective, kid,” Eda quipped, earning another scowl from her student. “Relax,” she added, giving her shoulder a squeeze, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out sooner or later.” Her expression went solemn, eyes cast out the back window as she absentmindedly called her staff to hand. “Play time’s drawing to a close,” she said wistfully, more to herself than anyone else, “Pretty soon, it’ll be all hands on deck.”

“I didn’t realize I was playing,” Luz teased, finding only a solemn look across her mentor’s face in response.

“Yeah,” Eda agreed, “people never really do, do they?”

“Eda?” Luz asked, concern flaring for the witch. It wasn’t like her to shift moods so rapidly; usually, it was more of a gradual scale from “snarky but laughing” to “snarky but serious.” 

“Ah, don’t listen to me,” Eda insisted, breaking her train of thought, “Just enjoy your day, kiddo. Feel like we got enough teaching in for this one to count. Say hi to that little girlfriend of yours for me,” she added with a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I will,” Luz responded with confidence, earning a genuine smile out of the witch that signaled her victory. With one last jaunty salute, Eda stepped out the backdoor and slid onto her broom, slipping off into the air as easily as breathing.

“Someday,” Luz whispered under her breath, imagining the freedom of being able to sail off into the air at a moment’s notice. Titan, she’d take Amity all over the place-

_Wait, Amity._

Glancing at the clock and cursing at how little its broken hands told her, Luz pulled out her phone, only to nearly drop it in a panic.

_How was it almost noon?_

That same panic carried her past a protesting King. Threw her up the stairs three at a time, whirled her around her room, grabbed her cloak, and nearly found her tumbling down the stairs as she tried to put her boots on in motion. Sure, they hadn’t technically made any promises other than to “see each other tomorrow,” but she’d waited long enough, damn it. She had a girlfriend!

_Tenía novia._

The thought caught her totally off guard in the living room, clasp only half done on her cloak. Caught between a furious blush and a lopsided grin that absolutely refused to leave her face. 

“I have a girlfriend!” she shouted to no one in particular. 

“I heard you the first time,” King shouted back, “why don’t you go talk to her or something?”

“As you wish, my lord,” she responded to the demon, mollifying him as she stepped out the door and into the brisk afternoon air. Even the _cold_ felt good on her skin, and for a moment, she felt like maybe she didn’t even need a staff to fly...

And then she remembered how sore she’d felt in the days after her little “incident.” How her mom had been fairly certain she’d pulled just about every muscle in her body in some way. 

_Walking worked too._

But, you know, if she just happened to break into a jog halfway to town, it was totally because she was trying to get back into Willow’s exercise regimen. No other reason, really.

_And certainly not because the faster she went, the faster she’d get to see Amity. Maybe even the faster she’d get to pay her back for the souvenir she’d left on her._

~---~

First stop - the Glass Cauldron; home of the only cup of tea Luz was absolutely certain that Amity liked. Also home (well, workplace) of one of her favorite witches in the Isles.

“Hiya, Skara!” Luz called as she stepped into the cafe, wincing at the scowl the lone customer sitting at a table in the corner tossed her way at the intrusion.

“Luz; it’s been a while,” the witch in question responded, expression bright as she closed the distance to the counter.

“In the flesh,” Luz responded, doing a little turn as she approached the counter.

“I’d heard you left,” Skara replied, chuckling at the display.

“Yeah, well you know,” Luz tossed back, grin springing to her face, “Not like I could stay away for long.”

“And Amity?” the bard asked, a serious edge creeping into her tone.

“Oh, so you _heard_?” Luz replied, meeting the edge with her own.

“Yeah,” Skara admitted, a bit sheepish, “Word tends to travel fast, and when the Matron’s apprentice _leaves_ the Isles, that doesn’t stay secret for long.”

“Wishful thinking, I guess,” Luz remarked.

“Doing better, I hope?”

“Much better, actually,” Luz responded, drawing the grin back to both of their faces. They stayed like that for a moment before Skara suddenly blanched, chuckling to herself as she pulled two cups of the rack.

“Right,” she quipped as she set them on the counter, “I have to actually _do_ my job.”

The bard looked at her expectantly, and Luz felt all coherent thought leave her mind. Not for any particular reason, really. It was just this fun trick her brain liked to play on her when she least expected it. At least it had never happened in the middle of a fight. Yet.

“I… have no idea what I’m ordering,” she admitted, earning a laugh out of the witch behind the counter.

“You want what you got last time?” Skara asked, impressing Luz far more than she would have cared to admit.

“You remember what I got last time?”

“Luz, I’m a bard,” Skara tossed back, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “I’ve had to memorize entire plays overnight. This thing?” she asked, rapping her knuckles against her skull, “Steel trap.”

“God, I wish,” Luz replied earnestly, “To be honest, I always kind of put bard and music together. Never really stopped to think theater would be a part of it too, but that makes a lot of sense.”

“Oh yeah, every other track gets to focus on one or two things,” Skara snarked wistfully, “but not us oh-so-talented bards. We’ve got music, of course, but there’s also theater, art, design, poetry…”

“And dragging a fae prince?” Luz asked, referencing a _particularly_ interesting story she’d finally wheedled out of Gus a few weeks back.

“You heard about that?” Skara asked, selecting and pouring a sequence of bottles that left Luz’s head spinning before she set it in some device behind the counter.

“Gus and Willow filled me in,” Luz clarified, “Even mentioned that _Boscha_ dropped by.”

“Did I mention that to you _and_ Amity last time you were here?”

“Sure did,” Luz confirmed, “Seemed like it was on your mind.”

“Yeah,” the bard conceded, “I suppose it was.”

“So does that mean you’re…” Luz asked, letting the question trail off for the witch to pick up at her leisure. Holding a conversation was great, but she hardly wanted to be the reason for Skara to burn herself.

“We’re doing better, but there’s still a ways to go. Boscha’s…”

“Boscha?” Luz supplied.

“Yeah, exactly,” the witch responded, removing Amity’s tea from behind the counter and pouring a shot of something into it, “but she’s been a big help getting everything together.”

“Everything?”

“Right, why _would_ you know?” Skara questioned herself, back turned as she portioned out what Amity referred to as a _criminal_ amount of cream and sugar, “I’ve got this final project to do. You know, last term and all, but it’s just _a lot_.”

“What, are they having you write an entire play?” Luz asked, entirely joking. And then Skara didn’t respond. And then she was silent for a bit longer.

“I- I was joking,” Luz admitted.

“Well the faculty weren’t,” Skara sighed ruefully, “Not only do I have to _write_ a play, but I also have to direct it, act in it, compose the music for it, and even handle the effects.” With each word, the bard got a little more breathless, a little less put together, until every word was accompanied by a hand-motion so exaggerated Luz began to wonder if stepping back from the counter was a better idea. “Not to mention a half-dozen other things besides,” she added, turning and pouring coffee into Luz’s cup.

“And that’s the project for _all_ of the bard-track students?” she asked, hoping that at least she wasn’t alone in her endeavor.

“Nope, just little old me,” Skara replied, setting a lid on both cups.

“Why?”

“I’m top student in my track,” the (apparently top of her track) bard responded, “and that means I have to work even harder to defend that spot at the end of my time at Hexside.”

“So everyone else just gets off with nothing?” Luz asked, incredulous.

“No, they’re supposed to try and either work with me or sabotage me.”

“Man, Isles really goes all in, doesn’t it?”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Luz covered, “just rethinking how torn up I was about finals each semester.”

“Oh, we still have those too,” Skara sighed as she put the finishing touches on their drinks.

“For what reason?” Luz asked, practically shouting at this point.

“Beats me, I just live here.”

“That could be the motto around here at this point,” Luz replied, chuckling. Skara nodded her head and laughed along as she walked back to the register, Luz following in her wake.

“Kind of already is, believe me. Well, here you are,” she concluded, passing the drinks over and holding a hand out expectantly.

“Thanks Skar, you’re a lifesaver,” Luz replied, giving her a high five and letting her stew in it for a moment before winking conspiratorially and pulling out her wallet. It only took her a minute, minute-and-a-half tops to count out the snails needed to cover the tab, and she even guessed the change right before Skara handed it back.

_Well, mostly guessed it right. Apparently eighth pieces turned to tenth pieces on Selesday, because why wouldn’t they?_

“At your service,” the bard responded with a sly grin, “and tell Amity I said hi when you see her.”

“Will do,” Luz tossed back, turning away before her memory finally sparked back into usefulness and pivoting back to the bard. “Oh, one more thing,” she rattled off, faster than she’d intended.

“What might that be,” Skara replied, laughing.

“I had an idea for how to get Amity and Boscha to talk to each other again.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Alright, so hear me out,” Luz began, setting her drinks on the counter again so that her hands could be free to gesture (and yes, the gestures _were_ necessary). “What if I asked Amity to grab lunch with me, and you did the same with Boscha, and then we all just went to the same place?”

“You been sitting on that one since last time?” Skara asked her, still laughing.

“Well, yeah,” Luz admitted, “but I haven’t seen you since then.”

“Hey, fair enough,” Skara responded, cutting any further explanation off. “I know you can get Amity to come,” she added with a wink, “but me getting Boscha to tag along is a whole different story.”

“At least give it a shot?” Luz pleaded, turning the classic puppy eyes on her until the witch’s expression softened.

“Fine, I’ll ‘give it a shot,’ assuming context matches meaning.”

“Alright,” Luz concluded, grabbing her drinks and turning back to the door. “It’s a date then,” she called over her shoulder as she stepped out onto the street.

“Alright,” she echoed back to herself as she juggled the drinks into one hand, pulling a list out with her other and scratching them off.

One stop down. 

_Two more to go._

~---~

Forty minutes later (and sixty-four snails lighter), Luz arrived at the gates of Lilith and Amity’s townhouse, bouquet in hand. The drinks having been the casualty of an overdone pair of flame glyphs that had left her holding a pile of sweet-scented ashes she hadn’t had the heart (or the funds) to have Skara replace.

She nodded to the peacekeeper as she approached, a woman she didn’t recognize with piercing blue eyes and black hair she wore braided around her head like a crown. The woman nodded back, apparently recognizing her if the fact that she wordlessly opened the gate was anything to go by, but Luz didn’t miss the way her hand stayed close to the sheathed, faintly glowing sword and rod she wore at her waist.

There was a brief moment where she debated stopping to ask the pretty witch lady about her incredibly cool, clearly magical sword, but that idea found itself competing against the fact that Amity was right behind the front door, and it was really a no-brainer which one won out in the end.

Still, as she knocked, she couldn’t help but glance back at the witch, only to find her gaze solidly met, a knowing smile on the peacekeeper’s face. She was saved from any further embarrassment by the door opening. Well, less saved and more tossed from the frying pan into the fire, but you couldn’t win them all.

Amity stood there, looking as beautiful as she always did. Sure, she wasn’t wearing anything fancy by _her_ standards - just a pair of jeans and a button-down - but she _was_ wearing Luz’s jacket over it all, and as cold of a walk as it had been with just her cloak and a sweatshirt, the sight of her in it made the trouble immediately worth it.

_Wait, was she supposed to be saying something? Surely, the universe didn’t expect her to when confronted with a sight like that?_

“Luz! I wasn’t expecting you already,” Amity said, an easy smile creeping across her face. God, she was pretty.

“God, you’re pretty,” Luz blurted out, followed immediately by a stuttered, “ah, but you already knew that.”

“Maybe,” Amity teased, “but it’s still nice to hear. Are those for me?”

_Did she really want to kiss right here? That peacekeeper was still watching them though…_

Amity gestured towards the bouquet, and Luz brain caught up to the (frankly) obvious question.

“Yeah, I- You know, I bought them. With money. Snails, even, which are money here.”

“Are you okay?” Amity asked her, which was a great question, and definitely one she wished she had the answer to.

“You know, I think it’s just the cold?” Luz suggested, shrugging and adding in a (totally realistic) shiver for good measure.

“Right,” Amity agreed, totally not buying it, “Well, in that case, would you like to come in?”

“Sure, totally. Just me and you, in the house. Together.”

“Luz?”

“Yes, Amity?”

“Please come inside.”

“Sure thing,” she replied, definitely too loud, and then she tossed a _salute_ back to the peacekeeper for some _godforsaken_ reason, but turned back and all but threw herself into the room beyond before she could take her embarrassment any further. Of course, that was further complicated by...

Lips, pressed to her own in passing. Short, but sweet, and somehow everything she’d been missing while simultaneously being the thing singly most capable of making her short circuit. Dimly, she registered that the flowers were missing from her hand, that water was running in the kitchen, but that was more background noise to the fire that was racing across her face.

_What was wrong with her?_

“I’ve got to say,” Amity called from the kitchen, “if this is really what I acted like around _you_ at first, it’s a wonder that the entire Isles didn’t know about my crush.”

“Oh, so you’re totally not buying any of my excuses?” Luz called back, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders.

“Not in the slightest,” Amity replied, voice lowered as she re-entered the room, setting a vase at the center of the dining table with the flowers standing proud and straight (well, that made one living thing in this room) at the center.

“You know,” the witch continued, rounding the table and leaning against the side closer to her, “Over here, you usually only send flowers to witches you _despise_.”

“That would explain why the florist winced when I told them they were for my girlfriend,” Luz remarked, suddenly feeling sympathy for the poor shopkeep’s attempts to get her to buy something resembling a clump of weeds that he insisted were “far more practical.”

“Your girlfriend, huh?” Amity asked, a bemused expression on her face but an unmistakable pink to her cheeks.

“Is that alright?” Luz replied, suddenly uncertain. “It’s just, after last night, I wasn’t sure, and you’re getting closer to me, and-”

Their lips met again, and all thought went with them. Just a single breath, stolen from her lungs. This moment of anxiety, of uncertainty, and then her heart all but stopping as amber met brown. As the Bond kindled to life between them. Eyes turned to mirrors, reflecting one another’s emotions back at them. Recognition turned to understanding.

“Does that answer your question?” Amity whispered as she pulled away, her breath a sorocco against Luz’s face. 

“ _¿Qué te ha pasado?_ ” Luz asked her, a smile across her face.

“I could ask you the same,” Amity replied, a sly smile creeping over her features to meet Luz’s genuine one, “Who said you got to be the blushing mess all of a sudden.”

“Apparently the same person that said you got to be suave and confident.”

“Maybe we’re just rubbing off on each other?” Amity asked innocently, leaning back into the arms Luz hadn’t realized she’d wound around her waist.

“Maybe you should answer my question again,” she suggested, leaning in and whimpering internally as the witch pulled away.

“Tempting offer,” Amity admitted, “but there’s just two problems.”

“And those are?”

“One,” Amity said, raising a finger and lowering her voice to a whisper, “the peacekeeper at the gate has magically enhanced hearing.”

“Ah,” Luz responded eloquently, feeling a blush creep back into her cheeks.

“And two,” Amity continued, raising a second finger, “there are things we need to get done today, and they’re likely not going to happen if we start down _that_ road already.”

“You’ve made two good points and I hate them,” Luz replied, grinning despite herself.

“Well, you’ll like them more once you see what I have planned,” Amity replied with a smirk, walking past her and grabbing her sleeve as she went.

“What did you have in mind?” Luz asked, hammering nerves not at all helped by the sly smile that crept across Amity’s features. At the now, er, _familiar_ fangs that poked out beneath. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” Amity teased, Luz deciding to pretend she didn’t see the little uncertain glance the witch tossed back at her when she wasn’t looking. She nodded again to the peacekeeper as she passed, who pointedly looked any direction other than at them. For the briefest moment, she wondered what exactly she’d gotten herself into.

Then Amity smiled back at her, a warm, genuine thing that (for once) didn’t have anything lurking beneath it, and the pieces slowly fell into place.

Amity Blight, the smartest, prettiest, most breathtaking person she knew was her _girlfriend_ . She got to kiss her whenever she wanted (provided _she_ wanted to, of course); got to spend as much time with her as she wanted. She wasn’t _nervous_.

She was giddy.

Head-over-heels, totally smitten, puppy love; whatever you wanted to call it, Luz was experiencing all of it and more. If she had to wager a guess (and the Bond made that pretty easy), there was a good chance Amity felt the same way. Which meant they were both equally out of their element. 

Luz breathed a sigh of relief, and Amity glanced back her way, squeezing her hand and sending a pulse along the Bond in tandem. Luz reciprocated, trading out a hand-squeeze for a little bit of applied leverage that drew the witch into a side-arm hug that they somehow managed pretty well while walking. 

“So where are you taking me?” Luz asked, feeling some (but not all) of the nerves she felt fade with each word.

“Well, first we’re getting you a scroll,” Amity insisted, “because not being able to message you last night was absolute torture. And second,” she added, holding a finger up to halt Luz’s protests, “I’m willing to bet that you haven’t seen the Grom tree in winter?”

“Does it look different?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Amity responded, this look of wonder on her face that hit Luz’s heart like a freight train.

“Then lead away,” she managed to choke out, more than content to let the witch lead her off a cliff if it made her happy.

_She was pretty sure she’d have enough magic to make them both fly at this point, anyways._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... we're back, folks. Expect a chapter of IYO once a week from here on out and, if you've a keen eye, you may have realized there's only eight of those left. Fear not, there will be a sequel to this work, but also keep an eye out for additional companion pieces (a la Catalyst) to pop up in the meantime. Thank you, as always, for the wonderful support you've all shown this. An especially warm welcome to the many new converts that came along with the commission. We're happy to have you! Until next time.

**Author's Note:**

> To get an insight into my thought process while writing this fic, as well as to potentially get a hint of what's to come, feel free to listen to the official companion playlist below!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/38dov43QP2DBdZDUCTHH7a?si=J4vLiv0vR4CfQL6PsIKQfg


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